


Withering

by AttorneyHold



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dorks in Love, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nico is in a constant state of denial, Nico is so gay i swear to god, One-Sided Love, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unrequited Love, hanahaki disease au, or will, which isn't good for him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-04-15 02:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttorneyHold/pseuds/AttorneyHold
Summary: "I want to love you--honest to God, I really, really do . . .But do you . . . want to love me back?"...He, for a wonderfully amazing person that he was who filled Nico's once grey and otherwise meaningless existence with bright, and vibrant colors, was everything Nico had ever wanted . . .Yet, was the one and only thing in the world he could never, ever have.((edited summary))





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

   _"Feelings shall bloom, and when all else fails, Love will suffice."_

* * *

 It was winter again.

Amidst the noisy streets of the main city, amid the clamor of idle words tossed into the wind, snowflakes fell listlessly down from the blurred, veiled sky, swaying gently before disappearing from eye view into a huge mound of white snow.

The pathway was piled with endless expanse of the white hail, barely making room for one person to stick a foot into the solid cemented floor. The railing was frosted, and cold to the naked touch.

The trees were bent down towards the direction of the earth, the tips of their darkened green leaves howling sorrowfully into the night sky. The grass whistled and swayed, whispering sweet nothings and tales of old. The flowers withered and cried, their bright jovial colors reducing to nothing more than a dull ting of frosty pink.

The lake was completely frozen over; the glassy surface gleamed and shone proudly in all its glory as it basked under the generous warmth of the glowing moon.

The garden was secluded and completely isolated from the city, _not_ to mention that it was quite a distance that required more than just walking. No one had dared to venture into the clammy grounds of the small city park, especially not in such a _cold,_ winter night, where people would instantly _freeze_ over from the tips of their ears, to the pointiest part of their toes just by taking a step outside their warm houses, and where danger lurked in every nook and cranny of the city walls.

Behind the thick bushy scrubs and greeneries of the sheltered area, emerged an onyx, shaggy-haired boy with narrowed eyes above a reddened nose and a petulant mouth. His skin was a stark, and unhealthy pale color that could rival the whitest of snows and frost combined.

He wriggled twice inside the extremely uncomfortable and itchy bush, leaves tangling in the tornado of a mess he calls his hair, finding his foot stuck in a particularly sharp ivy thorn, which dangled around his legs in a most alarming manner, and half-mockingly shone at him under the moonlight.

Wordlessly, he unsheathed the pocket knife that was previously hidden within the safe confines of his brown jacket, and silently snipped off the string of thorns that wrapped itself into his sneakers, blinking once, then twice in relief when the thorn dispatched and fell into pieces down the frost-covered ground.

Putting the knife back, he heaved himself up with his right arm, dusted his jeans with his hand and shook his head, wiping off the few traces of lingering dirt on his clothes.

Shoving both arms into the pockets inside his jacket after his little get-up, he took a couple of steps forward, towards the direction of the lake, the sticks and stems under his feet crunching loudly against his otherwise very quiet surrounding.

Snow crinkling and dirt champing under his heavily-cladded feet, and after a few minutes or so of walking, he stilled and paused, at an arm's length, in front of the icy body of water in front of him. There were no trees, or pavements, in near hindsight. It was just him, the dead flowers, the frozen grass, and the cold lake.

A ghost of a smile twitched across his face, and his eyes crinkled upward in a way that didn't seem to match his countenance.

He took a very feeble step forward, hands clumsily flying out of his jacket pockets, and looked down, breath hitching and throat constricting tightly when the ice made a distressing sort of noise. His legs felt like jello when he tried to stand up, and his upper appendages were not helping him regain his balance in the slightest bit, either.

"You can do this, just relax," he hissed shakenly to himself, face pale and lips quivering. It was a pathetic attempt to soothe himself and his thundering heart. "It's just water – just _ice_ and _water_ . . ." He inhaled sharply, fog and snow entering his nostrils. He resisted the urge to cough.

Tentatively, he pushed the hilt of his left foot, breath stopping once more as his uncertain legs moved forward in an almost comical manner. Wobbling like a fish out of water, it took him a while to actually stand on his own hind legs without stumbling face-first into the fragile thing that was the frozen lake beneath his shaking toes.

Then, with a small sense of glee and relief, he was finally able to glide slowly and carefully from side to side, faintly recalling the skating lessons his sister had nailed into his brain all those years ago here at this very lake: where children were free to skate with gusto, ice-cream was savored, and parents lounged idly in set-out picnic matts.

A feeling of nostalgia overtook his senses and his eyes, subconsciously, softened.

Once he was able to get used to the ice's thin and slippery surface, he was able to glide effortlessly from side to side, remembering his freckled face sister's childish retorts and instructions, one hand behind his back and the other moving on its own accord, swinging from left to right, up and down, in a rhythmic and familiar pattern he had done when he was just a little boy.

The wind felt great against his skin, and it cooled down the heat that pooled around his face and stomach, calming down the raging ache in his chest.

He grimaced. His eyes dulled and his smile dropped.

He glided to the left.

It was great that he decided to visit the park during such a cold evening, where there was nobody but him, and his complicated emotions.

Him, just collecting his scrambled and disoriented thoughts.

Feeling a little bold, he retraced his steps, and gently glided to the center of the lake. Knees bent and feet shifting, he bolted at neck-breaking speed with his sneaker squeaking loudly against the fragile surface of the lake. It creaked and groaned under the weight of the heavy-eyed boy with the reddened nose, but it did not break, and the boy knew his way around the ice like he knew the back and front of his own hand, and he walked with the agile-likeness of a cat, and the grace of a deer. It was a stark contrast to what occurred just fifteen minutes prior.

He stopped suddenly, finding himself in the center of the lake, and stood perfectly still. His head tilted up, and he was standing directly underneath the moon's warm glow, making him visible to anyone who was near the lake.

But . . . there was nobody here.

Lifting his arms up, he cupped his hands together and repeatedly breathed into them, rubbing them continuously to try and get the warmth flowing back into his hands. His breath hitched ever so often and formed small puffs of air through his nostrils, and he pushed the palm of his hands to his cheeks to feel how cold they really were.

And they were. Extremely so.

It was winter again, after all. _Not_ summer.

_Summer_. The word alone brought a bittersweet taste to his tongue. The times where the sea glistened and his skin blistered underneath the sun's heated gaze . . . where water balloons were thrown at him, ice-cream was served and savored, memories flourished, where vivid colors splashed his previously otherwise dull existence.

_Summer_. Six months ago. Where everything was still sunshine and rainbows. Where he still had a purpose and a meaning to his meager existence.

Will constantly teased him about his hating summer was because it was a part of, 'emo culture and tradition' (he was too lazy to bring up the fact that Will basically insulted every single emo in America when he uttered those words) or something along those ridiculous and stupid lines. He had explained to him, with poorly disguised exasperation, that he hated summer because he got tanned easily and his skin turned blotchy and itchy due to too much exposure to heat waves.  

That wasn't the case for Will though, and he laughed loudly at his statement like the damn pig that he was. He was _already_ tanned anyway, but in a bronze-golden like way where his tanned-ness complimented his everything, _especially_ since he was an outdoor type of person, whereas _he_ , on the other hand, had to grudgingly rub sunscreen all over his scrawny body every five minutes or so under the sun.

But it wasn't summer _now_. And he had nothing to bemoan about. He certainly couldn't complain about getting barbecued by the damn moon every five seconds.

And besides . . .

At least in winter, there were _no_ confrontations. _No_ deadlines. _No_ guilt-tripping. No . . .

His throat constricted and his eyes suddenly stung.

In winter . . . he wasn't . . . wasn't  _forced_ to come to terms with his feelings. He wasn't pressured to make a decision. He could sneak out of the house and into the cold and empty streets and enjoy the solace the night had to offer him. He was free from judgment, from decision making.

He sat down on the thin, glazed ice and hugged his knees, breathing ever so slightly. He closed his eyes, and listened to his own breathing and heartbeat, listened to the slight rustling of the hardened shell of the tree leaves, and took a deep, _deep_ breath.

He could stay . . . for a little while longer. _Maybe_. There was nobody here, anyway. No one to criticize or be criticized, no one to tell him that what he was doing was dangerous. _No_. It was just him, the dead flowers, the frozen grass, and the cold lake. Nobody in their right minds would go out on such a cold, _cold_ evening where they could've spent the spare time with their family members.

It was winter . . . after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you realize that it's technically a crime to take a photo of someone when they're sleeping?" 
> 
> "I don't see you trying to dial 911, though, Nico."

* * *

**_Three Summers Ago_ **

* * *

The park, for a newly-opened _park_ that it was, was a place simply over _wrought_ with dozens of hundreds of people—and Nico knew this fact like he knew and memorized the interior décor of his great old aunt’s smelly living room.

He sat in a corner, a good distance away from the overly cherubic and bustling crowd, gazing intently at the civilians lounging around the lake, whether they be young or old, male or female, Nico scowled at them, deeply vexed and, simply put, _annoyed_.

Why, oh _why_ , did his parent have to drag him out of the house for a, oh wait, _wait_ , what _was_ it again? Oh, _right_ , a proper, ‘family get-away’ with all of them – that’s right, even his pure _workaholic_ of a father chose to cancel his several meetings with potentially big clients for this completely out of the blue, ‘family bonding day’ – the downright family with severely _tight_ schedules, and, of _all_ the places they could’ve chosen to spend the weekend on, it was the newly-renovated _park_ , a goddamn _park_ for crying out loud, that was literally a five minute walk from their house? 

“ _Mom_ ,” he had argued this morning like the bitchy teenager that he _so_ was. “ _Why, explain to me, are we going to the nearby_ park _on a_ Saturday _?_ ” 

“ _Because, sweetie_ ,” his mom had replied, just as civilly, flipping pancakes as if she wasn’t just arguing with her son about spending his living hours outdoors like a normal person. “ _Your_ father _, the poor man who provides for our daily needs that he is, is coming home in a few hours, so I reckon he deserves to spend the day he finally comes home bonding with his family.”_

Nico hadn’t mentioned the fact that his family haven’t heard from his dad in the past, like, what? _Decade_?

And, possibly with the worst timing _ever_ , his younger sister came strolling in, hair a rat’s nest like always and toothbrush hanging off her mouth like a stick of cigar, glanced at her mom and step-brother in obvious confusion—if  her brow raising and lips twitching weren’t an enough indication already.

“ _Mom what’s for breakfast?_ ” she asked airily, seating herself, still glancing from Nico to her mother.

“ _Nico, why are you looking at mom like that?_ ” she added in. Nico glared at her.

“ _Like what?_ ” Hazel had snorted.

“ _Like how you’re looking at me right now. Like, you know, you’re about to chop my head off?_ ” Before Nico could retort, she looked at her mom again, who _still_ hasn’t answered her question. “ _So what’s his deal, mom? Did you deny him the entrance to his room again or something?_ ”

“ _No, Hazel, that’s not it,_ ” her mother responded, laughing. “ _Your father’s coming home and we’re_ all _going out as a family to have some quality and well-_ spent _time together_ ,” her mom said in one breath, scooping up the last batter of pancake and pouring it into the pan.

Hazel’s face, Nico noted, with ongoing horror, where once her expression was moody and sardonic, went aglow with childish ecstasy at the prospect of doing _anything_ that’s related to the outdoors.

And, knowing that he lost without so much as another complaint judging by his step-mom’s silent smirk and Hazel’s annoying chatter, that he was doomed to spend his normally peaceful Saturday outdoors.

In the _park_ , no less.

And, _voila_! Here he was now—nursing a can of Fanta in his hand, wearing a long sleeved, V-neck sweater because _damn it all_ , he was extremely sensitive to the heat (which was one of the primary reasons why he didn’t want to go out in the park during summer, where the sun’s _blasted_ rays were the _strongest_ ) tucked in black, denim shorts that looked plain awkward on his skinny figure, and nike shoes that made his toes go numb because of how _tight_ they were.

Where it not for the oak tree that was far away from the crowd (not to mention, the damned  _sun_ ) Nico was pretty sure he would’ve either died from the overly noisy chattering and screeching of strangers or children, or get a heat-stroke from the sun, or die of suffocation from his V-neck _black_ sweater.

 _Oh_ , did he mention that his dad was here too? Seriously, the man was so tall that Nico could see his head poking out from the sand dunes that blocked the raven-haired boy from any prying eyes of strangers who might see him.

Hazel, clad in a pink, school swimsuit, was devouring a cool ice-cream and chattering with their dad about nineteen-to-the-dozen. Unlike her older brother, who was an emo through-and-through, Hazel was an outdoor-fanatic – and a _chatterbox_ , to boot. She had _no_ trouble engaging in a conversation with their father whom, might Nico add, she hasn’t seen in the past _five years_. Her enthusiasm was frightening.

And not _only_ was Nico forced to join in this whole pointless crusade against his free will, he was also dragged out of the house, courtesy of Hazel and her _freakishly_ toned arms, before he got to put on his jeans and jacket. If it weren’t for the fact that he grabbed his sweater before getting pulled out of the comforts of his room, he would be leaving the house in nothing more than a white blouse and blue shorts.

So, _yeah_.

Nico di Angelo was one _very_ unhappy camper.

And the only food he got was a can of Fanta that he bought with his own pocket-money. Nico felt like the gods were really, _really_ making fun of him when he emerged from the snack bar with nothing but a can of Fanta and a pack of fruity snacks in hand. Not only did he absolutely _hated_ Fanta because of its artificially sweet flavor, but his sister had ever-so, ‘graciously’ stole his fruity snacks from him. That damn brat ate _seven_ pancakes this morning and she chose to steal Nico’s meager pack of fruity snacks when he barely had a slice of bread earlier today? The god of misfortune must be having a _blast_ ruining Nico’s Saturday.

Laying his head against the rock behind him and lying down on the dry grass, Nico placed his arms over his head, gaze overlooking into the sky up-ahead. The ground beneath him was uncomfortably warm, not to mention the sand grinded his sensitive legs, and his bleak-eyes were bored as he counted the amount of clouds that drifted in the pastel sky.

Sipping the Fanta through a straw he stole from the snack bar, he looked at the rustling tree leaves, and felt his eyelids grow heavy. He could faintly hear Hazel screaming about a starfish in the distance. 

It wasn’t until someone was rudely shoving him back and forth did he realize he fell asleep. Rubbing his eyelids and unconsciously cursing in his mother-language, he parted his eyes only to cringe from the too bright rays of sunlight that penetrated his eyeballs. Opening them again, he blinked a great number of times, before gathering his bearings, and sitting in an upright position, swaying from his previous drowsiness. Already he could feel his eyelids droop again.

“Err, sir, I don’t think it’s good for you to sleep under the sun like this at this kind of hour,” someone inferred from his right, laughing a little. Nico squinted and groaned, finding his efforts of trying to distinguish the boy who woke him up futile because of the goddamn sun, and went back to his previous sleeping position, yawning. The boy beside him gave out a surprised yelp.

“Nngh, fuck off—m’still sleepy,” Nico retorted, completely forgetting his manners because of his sleepiness.

The boy above him didn’t respond for a moment, before laughing. It got to a point where Nico couldn’t fall asleep anymore because of the annoying bell-like chuckles that he identified as mocking.

“ _Woah_ , well aren’t _you_ kinda rude.” The stranger laughed. “Hmm, your awake persona is the complete _opposite_ of the cute boy that was a minute ago, sleeping like a newly born kitten under the burning, hot sun.” Nico flushed and he flung forward, any trace of sleepiness gone and his annoyance shooting skyward as he locked gaze with amused aquamarine eyes.

Instantly, Nico felt his face grew hot and his fingertips go numb. He blamed it on the fucking _sun_ that was _still_ relentlessly beating down on him like a fly swatter to an unsuspecting fly.

“You take that back,” Nico hissed, glaring as hotly as he could at the blond stranger, who was gazing at him with still laughing eyes.

Mr. Blonde laughed and grinned. “N- _ope_. I’m not taking back _any_ of it.” Then, to Nico’s surprise and horror, he pulled out his phone, and blatantly showed Nico his sleeping self, looking like a fetus by his curled up fetal position and passive expression that just looked plain _wrong_ on his normally resting-bitch-mode face.

Nico felt all gears in his head screech to an abrupt halt as he gaped in horror as Mr. Blonde continued to scroll past more, and even _more_ pictures of him sleeping under the sun.

“I must say,” Mr. Blonde started, beaming. “It would be a shame to know, with a heavy heart, that this boy rudely, quote, un-quote, told me to, ‘ _Nngh, fuck off—m’still sleepy_ ,’ while I was just telling him to move to a different location than under the heated sun.” He placed a dramatic hand to his head, and faked a sigh. “Woe is me that my kindness was met with aggression.”

Nico glared at him. _Hard_.

God was _really_ trying to push him past his limits today, huh?

“Why the _hell_ did you take a picture of me you weird-perv,” Nico snarled, grabbing the phone only to meet face first into the palm of the stranger’s hand.

Nico felt the fine ropes reigning over his self-control _snap_. 

This boy did _not_ just do what Nico think he just did.

“Gimme the damn phone you _fiend_!” Nico shouted, continuously repeating grabs for the phone only to have his attack deflected again, and again, and _again_ , and Nico felt _sure_ that the stranger was snickering in triumph behind his hand. Oh, how Nico felt like _strangling_ him then and there. Successful business man father with a reputation be _damned_ , blonde wasn’t going home with all four _limbs_ intact if he kept _this_ up.

“You do know that if you’re asking someone for a favor, you have to say _please_ , right?” Blonde said, grinning.

“You took a picture of me while I was sleeping!” Nico loudly accused, ignoring the blonde’s statement completely, still trying to grab the phone.

Blonde paused, humming. “I did it with good intentions . . . ?” he said, phrasing it as a question.

 Nico just about had _enough_.

With one last swoop he was _finally_ able to snatch the stranger’s phone, and, with a victorious battle cry, deleted the photos with flustered vigor.

Thank the Heavens there were only three pictures, or else he would’ve had dial 911 or the cops and have this stranger taken back to the city either handcuff-ed or in a _dog leach_.

But, he halted after a group picture, eyes widening.

“You’re . . . You’re friends with them?” Nico asked, confused as he showed the stranger the group photo.

Still beaming, the not-so-stranger-after-seeing-the-group-photo-but-still-kinda-not-really-a-stranger nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow.

Nico, finally realizing that he _probably_ overreacted a little bit, flushed, and timidly returned his phone. “I didn’t know you were friends with Annabeth and Percy. If you could’ve told me . . . I probably would’ve been less rude.” Blonde laughed.

“So that’s how you treat strangers, eh? I’m less hyped now that I’ve witnessed your true colors.” Again, Nico scowled and blushed.

“Well, if you told me your name first before taking a picture of me and proudly showing it off, I wouldn’t have misunderstood and jumped to a conclusion,” Nico retorted, still sore at experiencing the shock of getting his picture taken by a previous stranger.

Sunshine Blonde laughed. “I’m sorry for shocking you, then.” Smiling, he outstretched his hand.

“Well, my name’s Will. _Will Solace_.”

* * *

_Perhaps if Nico knew then the series of unlikely events that would’ve occurred and the amount of pain and anguish that would’ve been unleashed with his meeting with the Blonde, he wouldn’t have consented in shaking his hand._

* * *

Will smiled again.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Nico.”

* * *

_Perhaps if Nico hadn’t acknowledged Will at all . . ._

_He wouldn’t be suffering as much as he was now._

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Didn't you sleep last night, Nico?" 
> 
> "Don't make me punch you in the face for pointing out the obvious, Solace."

* * *

**Morning: 4:00 A.M**

* * *

Nico, unlike what most people thought, was actually a very, _very_ light sleeper. It was one of the many reasons why he woke up in the morning looking like a gremlin sat on his face for a solid eighteen hours—as Hazel kindly, jokingly, phrased it.

He openly _welcomed_ any signs or hints of sleepiness – no matter how . . . _odd_ the location he found himself in after waking up. (recall: the incident three years ago and Hazel screeching at the ungodly hours in the morning after finding him cozily drowsing under the kitchen table ((don’t even ask him about the latter because he’ll tell you now, _somberly_ , that he doesn’t have the slightest clue how he ended up _there_.))

In fact, he was _such_ a light sleeper that he was often subjected to groaning internally in misery whenever he heard his family walk up and down the stairs. And his room just so _happened_ to be beside it. It was practically equivalent to a massacre waiting to happen whenever Nico’s bloodshot eyes opened at the sound of his sleepy mother’s heavy footsteps groaning down their creaky wooden stairs. 

Nico isn’t and will never joke about the fact that he was tired and sleepy—because the poor boy was, quite literally, _always_ was.

He didn’t even have an alarm clock. His sister was _already_ a walking abomination of a ringing _clock_ (alternative title: _slumber-waker_ ) so there was no way in _hell_ he was wasting his money on a piece mechanical device when he basically lived near one two rooms away.

So the fact that Nico was laying completely still on his bed, both arms on his stomach, very aware of his own breathing, wasn’t something out of the norm for him.

His insomnia was getting _so_ incredibly irritating to the point that Nico _stole_ his mom’s antidepressant pills from her purse just to get a wink of sleep. He just stopped committing the theft recently because the ridiculously sharp woman started giving him knowing looks every time he stumbled out of bed and into his lunch chair later than everyone else.

So, here he was, eyes twitching and nose clogging because of the blasted air-con; without any tell-tale signs he was about to go to sleep.

Incidentally, the digital clock on his phone ringed. It was 5:00 A.M already.

Nico felt like screaming in frustration into his pillow.

Counting slowly to ten, he closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable to happen.

Then,the sound of thundering footsteps could be heard heading towards his door at terrifying speed. 

Hazel banged open his door and jumped into his bed (he didn’t feel like yelling at her for nearly breaking the entry-way that was his surely broken door). He could feel her beaming behind him as she uncaringly shook his weak form back and forth. It nearly made Nico vomit. “Rise and shine sleepy-head! Don’t want to keep mom waiting just because you slept-in again, right?”

Nico buried his head under the covers and desperately wished for his sister to leave him alone. “Just five more minutes . . .” or _hours_ , depending on how long he has to stay awake before the dreaded thing called sleepiness overtook him.

Hazel obviously wasn’t taking a ‘no’ for an answer. Just like _all_ the other mornings. Nico has long learned that it was futile to try to bargain and negotiate with his sister who always acts like she lives off on caffeine and sugar. “ _Nico_ , if you don’t get up I’ll have to tell mom to wake you up instead!” She then proceeded to tackle him.

Nico inhaled sharply. The brat was going to _suffocate_ him!

“Hazel get off you’re going to _kill me_!” Nico’s arms flayed randomly in the air and he kept wheezing (like an old dying man), desperately clawing his sister for fear of dying in suffocation. Physical activity was never really his forte, after all (as said by everyone he has ever known _ever_ ).

Hazel, the damn little weasel, grinned mischievously and hugged him firmly ( _tight_. _Way_ too tight!) from behind, refusing to let go. Although the bear hug was something Nico would normally and secretly appreciate, it was rejecting oxygen from entering his lungs.

 “I swear to God Hazel let me go _now_ before I do something drastic!” He could feel Hazel’s hold loosening a little bit. But not enough for him to break and wriggle free.

 _Seriously_ , the fact that his inch shorter sister was physically stronger than him in _many_ ways was a fact that he would forever be embarrassed of ‘till the day that he _died_.

“Oh? Like _what_ , Nico?” Nico glared at her. He was too tired for this!

Both mentally _and_ physically!

“I’m sure,” he panted, eyes squinting. “I’m _sure_ you don’t want me telling mom what happened last Tuesday, right, _Hazel_?”

His sister gasped dramatically.

“You _wouldn’t_!”

“You are literally _suffocating_ me to death! Anyone in their right mind would do anything to get out in a situation like this!” Nico shouted back, rolling around in bed and, as a result, both he and his wicked sibling fell down the ground with a resoundingly loud thud.

Nico wiggled out of the covers _and_ from his Hercules of a sister’s clutches and inhaled loudly. _At last_ , he was free!

“If you have time to roughhouse around in Nico’s room like that, then you both have the time to come downstairs and eat your breakfast,” came the muffled  and disapproving voice of their mother, who Nico imagined was tapping her foot on the floor and folding her arms across her chest in the typical tell-tale signs of a harsh scolding.

Nico, after witnessing his younger sibling bemoaning loudly as her feet were tangled among his bed covers, clumsily pushed himself up from the floor and hastily made his escape, ignoring the coldness seeping through his bare feet as his sister shouted in indignation after him, already five steps behind him down the stairs as he loudly tumbled down with the gracefulness of a sloth.

 He could hear Hazel cackling as she zoomed past his aching form on the ground. “Good luck making an excuse to why you’re late for breakfast, Neeks!” she snickered as she disappeared behind the kitchen counter, which roughly translated to, ‘ _good luck at dealing with mom’s rage at being late for breakfast, loser!_ ’.

Nico wanted to strangle the little imp for worsening his already terrible morning.

“Well, if it isn’t my sleepy son, Nico,” his mother chortled, eyes glinting. “What excuse do you possibly have for missing breakfast, dear?” Hazel was greedily devouring a stack of pancakes in the background, uncaring for the impending doom that was soon to befall on her fellow kin.

Nico’s eyes twitched and he let out a drained sigh.

It was going to be one _hell_ of a tiring Monday.

* * *

 “Have a great day at school, Hazel, Nico!” It was still bright and sunny when they left their house, and while Hazel energetically waved back at their mother with beaming eyes, Nico trudged forward down the narrowed pathway, hands forced into his jeans, brain clouded with irk and drowsiness.

He could hear Hazel catching up to him, and with twisted satisfactory noted that she was panting. Not quite as hard as he was this morning, but was still panting. And between the two of them, wheezing and panting and perspiring were signs of _weakness_. “Geez Nico, would it kill you to slow down?”

Nico glared ahead (poor tree) and shrugged. “I’m not slowing down for someone who nearly suffocated me this morning.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“—And someone who left me alone to deal with mom’s rage even though it was technically her fault we were both late to breakfast,” Nico added, sill not sparing his disbelieving sister a glance.

Hazel was fuming when she wrapped her hands around his right arm and stuck close to him like gum. “I’m _sorry_! Okay?” she quietly whined, twitching when Nico was _still_ refusing to look at her.

Nico snickered at seeing the distressed look Hazel was harboring—serves the brat _right_ for supposedly waking him up roughly and expecting forgiveness so easily. “I refuse to look at the person who nearly killed and betrayed me,” Nico drawled uncaringly, causing Hazel’s distress to heighten significantly.

“Ni-co!” Hazel continued to whine, and Nico continued to ignore her.

Just then, a figure emerged from one of the nearby houses, and Nico, distinguishing him, groaned loudly. Hazel gave him a puzzled glance.

The figure saw them almost the same time as Nico did and grinned, running towards them eagerly.

“Mornin’ Nico, Hazel!” Leo greeted cheerfully, in which Hazel, just as cheerfully, greeted him back. Nico gave him a muted greeting that was equivalent to an expired cheese getting spread on a piece of fresh bread loaf and made both energy-balls for people frown. Well, Hazel frowned, mostly, but Leo was a hot air balloon whose spirits couldn’t be brought down from anything except for maybe an angry mob of tricked girls, (the incident last year was a sworn secrecy between them. _Never again,_ Nico shuddered as he replayed the memory in his mind) and gleefully swung an unwelcomed arm across Nico’s shoulder, which nearly made him give out at the heavy weight of two appendages trapping his body.

“There you go again, Neeks. Still keeping up the façade of bein’ an emo, eh?” Leo said, and Hazel snickered.

Nico would’ve choked him where it not for his promise to his mom and Hazel that he would be as civil as possible at all times outside their house—which is ever. “You literally just insulted all the people who are interested in gothic culture, Leo.” The tanned imp snorted.

“And what people are those? Come _on,_ we live in the 21 st century, Nico; people don't burn women anymore, man. That's just gross and unethical.” Hazel laughed.

Nico rolled his eyes. Typical unbashful Leo. “Frankly, there are plenty. But I won’t name any because you might just ruin their hopes and dreams for the future, Leo.”

Leo grinned. “You talk as if I have the capability to insult people. _Me_?” He pointed at himself. “I’m Leo Valdez, super-sized mc-shizzle man, le bad boy supreme!” Leo struck a pose that Nico  supposed was macho and Nico averted his eyes and covered his orbs with a palm as people started to stare, grimacing as he pretended to not know or have any relations to the weird elf striking poses in the middle of the streets.

Hazel was un-affected by the onslaught of judgmental stares and paled, scowling. “ _Leo_ we swore to never to talk about that!” 

Leo laughed. “ _You_ Hazel Levesque, and the others, along with grumpy-faced grampa over here, swore a solemn oath. I didn’t swear to nothin’.” Hazel roared angrily at that, and chased after him, and Leo evaded her attacks, hooting like a hyena, grinning as Hazel missed him again, and again, and again. Hazel’s face was black with rage.

Nico, on the other hand, was watching at a fairly safe distance and felt incredibly insulted as he gazed at the one-sided battle. He barely missed Hazel’s surprised hug attack this morning and the skinny Leo was effectively dodging her attacks like it was _nothing_! That just meant that Nico was weaker than him and frankly, that was the biggest insult Nico would _ever_ receive. Leo can barely lift a box full of clothes from the ground for crying out loud!

“Nico I can see you sporting the, ‘’how the hell is he dodging my sister’s attacks like that when he can barely reach the carton of milk from a high shelf’ and I suggest you stop that!” Leo shouted, grinning as Hazel continued to make grabs for his arm and tackle him the same way she did to Nico this very morning.

Nico scowled. _Oh_ , that ass expects him to help after just insulting him, didn’t he?

“Tough luck, bud,” Nico snorted and turned around, waving a dismissive hand at them. “Good luck dealing with Hazel and her monstrous wrath.” Leo paled.

“O-Oi Nico, my man! Buddy pal!” Leo yelled pleadingly. “I’m sorry, man! C-C’mon and help me out here! _Oi_ , Nico!” Nico continued to wave at him.

He rolled his eyes. Hasn’t Leo learned that you can’t earn back his forgiveness simply by pleading out in an obnoxiously loud voice? He could learn a thing or two from Hazel, who was at _least_ humble and timid when apologizing to him.

“Hazel, if you manage to catch Leo, I’ll forgive you for tackling me this morning,” Nico called out, and while Hazel’s face brightened, Leo’s paled.

“Nico you asshat!” Leo shouted as Hazel continued to chase him with twice the vigor and aggressiveness that before. “I’ll remember this day! I _will_ be avenged!” Nico rolled his eyes.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going!”

“To school, captain obvious. While I enjoy seeing Hazel pressure the hell out of you, I can’t afford to sacrifice my education for that.”

“ _Damn you, Nico!”_

* * *

 Walking to school in thick silence, Nico couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction.

What he would _give_ to have his everyday life like this. Maybe his left arm since he doesn’t use it much for anything.

But . . .

“Nico!”

_All good times are bound to come to an end._

Nico sighed, but this time, for a completely _different_ reason other than satisfaction. Slowing down a little bit since he knew better than to rush ahead with the amount of leg strength the duo behind him possessed, he turned around and saw a pretty blonde girl with waist-length hair calmly ambling towards him, while a boy with messy black hair and green eyes waved at him with sparkling teeth. Nico was long immune to it, though.

Smiling a little, he greeted them back. “Hey, Annabeth. Percy.” Annabeth smiled at him and exchanged a polite hello while Percy grinned and swung an arm around his shoulder. Nico groaned loudly.

“Please stop doing that. As you may know, I’m still a growing boy.” Percy laughed.

“It’s not like everyone does this to you, Nico. Just appreciate it.” Annabeth gently smiled at them, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s unbearably childish antics.

“Knock it off, seaweed brain. You can see he’s uncomfortable.” Percy, angry at the ridiculous nickname, released his hold over Nico’s neck and argued with his brain for a girlfriend and Nico sighed, cracking his shoulders to see if his arms were still intact to his body. Seriously—three people relentlessly just tackled him today. It was a wonder how he was still alive and kicking when he barely had an hour of sleep a _day_.

“Say, Nico,” Annabeth piped up, ignoring Percy’s rants completely. “Have you been able to hear from Will? I thought he’d be going to school with you, but recently, I always see you with Leo and Hazel, or, on rare occasions, alone like now.” Unnoticeably, Nico’s shoulders stiffened.

“No . . . I haven’t seen him,” Nico replied automatically. “I thought he’d be going with you two. You live near his house, after all.” Annabeth laughed.

“ _Please_ Nico, Will won’t survive a single _millisecond_ with seaweed’s endless chatter. That’s why he goes with you.”

Percy called foul at this. “Hey! I’m not _that_ talkative!”

“Says nobody ever,” Both Annabeth and Nico replied simultaneously. Nico was scowling while Annabeth gazed at the smaller boy fondly. Percy yelled again.

“Stop teaming up to go against me guys!” Percy exclaimed.

“Who’s teaming up to go against who?” From a corner, Hazel was holding hands with Leo, while Leo’s face was an unhealthy shade of purple.

Nico looked at Leo, then back at Hazel. “ _God_ Hazel, what did you _do_ to him?”  Hazel grinned.

“I caught him like you asked me to.” Leo scowled.

“If by catching you mean subjecting me to an endless round of cat and mouse ‘till I bled and died then yeah, that’s _totally_ what she meant!” Leo accused and wheezed, wobbling as he held his shaking knees together. Annabeth and Hazel snickered. “Geez Louise, what the _heck_ is your sister made of, di Angelo? Look at her—she isn’t even sweating!”

Nico sighed. “I ask myself that question pretty much every day.” Percy and Hazel cackled at that.

“Leo, you’re practically skin and bones. Hazel is _way_ out of your league,” Percy said, grinning as he swung an arm around the panting Texan.

“Hey, man, that’s insulting,” Leo laughed, eyes crinkling.

“Insulting how? To be compared to me?” Hazel said suspiciously, eyes narrowing. Leo held his hands up defensively, smiling to reassure her that by no means, did he feel insulted because he was compared to a girl.

“No, that Jackson over here told me I was practically skin and bones.” He turned back to said insulter. “I eat meat every day, dude, and I have _no_ problem skinning you alive and turning your organs into a buffet.” Percy’s eyes were dancing with poorly disguised mirth.

“Cannibalism is a crime, Leo,” Annabeth pointed out. Leo smiled secretly.

“Not if you hide the corpse it’s not.” Hazel head-chopped the crown of Leo’s head.

“Leo we’ll be late for school if you continue to bicker like this!” Hazel scolded and Leo whined, rubbing the sore spot in his head that Hazel had so violently assaulted.

“That’s not true! We still have plenty of time – right, Nico—wait, where did Nico go?” Leo was about to complain to the heavy-eyed boy when he turned around and was greeted at the sight of a vacant street; no sign of the black tuff of hair in hindsight. Hazel too, noted Leo’s surprise, turned around, and came to a realization that Nico was _gone_.

Hazel fumed. “ _Look_ what you did! Nico went ahead of us because of your irritating banter!” The brunette accused, and Leo and Percy sheepishly rubbed the nape of their necks.

Annabeth sighed. It was still morning and _already_ she felt exhausted. “There’s no point arguing about this now. We should go ahead and, hopefully, if he’s still at a walking distance, catch up to Nico.” She glared at her boyfriend, expecting a rejection of idea. But, knowing better than to argue with Annabeth of all people, closed his eyes and released a breath, accepting defeat.

“Yep. Annabeth’s right.” Percy smiled exasperatedly. “We should catch up to Nico.”

* * *

Slamming his locker shut, Nico let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and quietly ambled down the noisy hallway, fingers firmly shoved into his jeans as he continued to walk towards his classroom, completely ignoring the typical and pointless chatter of the adolescents around him as he slid the wooden door open, only to be greeted with even _more_ teenage talking. His class wasn’t known to be the most noisiest collection of teens in the whole campus for _nothing_ , after all.  

His weary eyes twitching considerably as the room’s heat waves coiled around his heavily-cladded body like a snake, he trekked forward, ignoring the humorous stares that elicited from his heavy clothed get-up. They were probably thinking how hot he was to look at because of the amount of clothes piled up on his thin form.

“I feel hot just looking at you, Neeks.” Nico turned around in shock and his heart hammered loudly in his chest in alarm. 

Will smiled and waved. “Morning, Nico.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *idk what to call people who live/were born in texas okay stfu 
> 
> also, people read this shit and i'm shooketh to the core--
> 
> i wrote this shit at 11am today pls forgive me, but seriously i'm like, genuinely shocked people read this and just i love you and. thank you so much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nico, why won't you tell me what's bothering you?" 
> 
> "You'll seriously be the death of me someday, Will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> belated warning: sort-of-but-not-really-but-still angst ahead??? 
> 
> 'm not very good at writing so grammar may or may not have errors DD;
> 
> also, pls don't forget to comment or give feedback thenks (ily) owo

* * *

**_Will smiled. “Morning, Nico.”_ **

* * *

Nico’s countenance drained from any color in an instance.

 _‘What are you doing!_ ’ he berated himself, his joints twitching. His hands hovered above his seat in mid-air, frozen in place. Nico’s expression was un-movingly expressionless. The world around him slowed down to a painfully intolerable level, so much that it hurt too much to even look at him. 

It was his best friend, Will Solace.

Sure, he was touching his shoulder, but that’s all it was. _A touch to the shoulder._ And it was _Will_ of all people who touched him. He wasn’t going to hurt him or anything – Nico didn’t need to act like he’d been caught in the act of doing a several serious felonies. Nothing bad was going to happen just because Will touched his _shoulder_ for Christ sake. _Nothing_.

It was just like any other morning. Will always greeted him with a touch to the shoulder. Will _always_ did this.

 It was _Will_. It was _just_ Will.

 _Will_.

So why did his heartbeat have to skyrocket through the roof like that?  

 “Oh,” he deadpanned, trying very hard to act like he hadn’t lost face a few seconds prior. “It’s . . . It’s just you Will.” The blond boy’s smile fell in an instant.

“ _Hurt_ ,” Will mused, feigning a pained expression. He didn’t seem to have noticed how Nico had gone extremely still under his touch. “I came all this way to greet you only to have my concern brushed off like it was nothing.” Will sighed, left hand on hip. “Why are you always so cold to me, Nico?”

“We sit next to each other, dumbass,” Nico stated.

Will’s lip twitched.  “Your point being . . . ?”

“Let go of my shoulder before I chop your fingers off,” Nico interjected, not wanting Will’s opposing appendage to rest on his shoulder for another second. Will smiled and raised his arms up defensively, hopping. Nico, upon realizing that he was free, cranked hi shoulders and slumped down his seat, relieved at last to take refuge on his warm desk.

“Well aren’t _you_ in a bad mood,” Will said as he stared at Nico’s sullen expression, observing his next motives.

Nico shrugged one shoulder and looked away. “I am not.”

“Don’t be stupid. You obviously are, Neeks,” Will argued. He sat back on is chair and crossed his arms, leaning forward towards Nico, who in return, leaned back, facing the window, and away from Will’s general direction.

Will whined low in his throat. “ _See_! You are! Normally you would shove my face away and tell me to mind my own business!”

Nico covered his eyes with his right hand, effectively blocking Will from view, and gestured toward Will’s body: “I would like to avoid as much of  _this_ as possible, thanks.” Will laughed. The rest of their classmates were chatting again, but a few occasionally glanced at Will and Nico's way to watch their friendly banter.

“Didn’t get enough sleep again last night, did you, Nico?” Will teased, oblivious to the stares, probing Nico further, in which the sleep-deprived boy exclaimed at.

“ _Ugh_ , mind your own business, Solace,” Nico said, blocking Will’s annoyingly long fingers from poking him. “Damn it, Will, stop trying to _touch_ me!” Will laughed and ceased to halt his attacks as he continuously tried to reach Nico’s abdomen, which he knows is the back-haired boy’s weak spot.

“Can’t and won’t ‘till you tell me what’s bothering you,” Will grinned. Nico was about to retort when he felt a sudden stab to his side. He squeaked.

“ _You_ – _you’re_ bothering me!” Nico shouted, squirming in his seat as Will relentlessly continued his assault. The sly bastard was the same as Hazel! Seriously, were both plotting something behind Nico's back for them to simultaneously catch him-off guard in the morning?! “Will _stop_!”

“I’ll stop when you tell me why you didn’t sleep again, you dug.” As Will continued trying to sabotage Nico’s sides, he noticed how the stares increased overtime and Nico just wanted the ground to swallow him up and spit him out when Will was gone in his live for five damn _minutes_. 

Nico cracked, “ _Fine_! I’ll tell! I’ll tell, just _stop_!” Will grinned victoriously and retreated, and Nico groaned under his breath, hating how Will had _such_ an amount of control over him. The only people who should have _that_ amount of authority reigning over him should be his parents ( _and_ Hazel, to an extent), and even _they_ don’t abuse their authority over him most of the time for anything – only Will ever did.

He laid down on his desk and buried his head into his arms, vainly willing for the world to stop in its movement  for a few movement until he gathered enough of his wits and bearings to challenge Will again later.

Will wasn’t too keen on his brilliant idea though - _obviously_. The man was like a living imitation of his sister. They were both _annoyingly_ persistent. “Nico you said you’d tell!” Nico groaned.

“I want to sleep,” he whined, and Will rolled his eyes.

“We both know that isn’t going to be happening anytime soon, di Angelo.” Will bonked his head affectionately, and Nico rubbed the spot he assaulted, scowling.

After staring at Will’s sincere face for a while, though, he closed his eyes, and sighed through his nose. It was _unbelievable_ how he could never win in an argument against Will whenever he pulled out that earnestly concerned expression of his. It was _so_ unfair.

So, with a rather sheepish rub to the neck, he looked down at his desk with a vindictive scowl. “Well, I can't say much – just that my insomnia is getting worse,” Nico confessed, leaning against the palm of his hand for support and yawning. “It got to the point that I can’t even close my eyes and sleep for a second without suddenly being aware of Haze’s breathing two doors away.” This was so, _so_ incredibly _weird_. He hadn’t even told Hazel about his problem with sleeping – _yet_ , that was, it was only a matter of time with his sister, after all, and he had a hunch his mom already knew, anyway.

But he never _openly_ talked about it – and in _public_ of all places, in _school_ – wait, _wait_ , now that the thought crossed his mind, his palms started to feel sweaty and he took a double-take on whether it may not have been the smartest or best decision to talk about this where all the people around them had ears open for gossip; except that Nico didn’t know how they could possibly use his inability to fall asleep against him. _(“hey, Nico di Angelo hasn’t slept in a solid eighty-two hours!” “That, emo kid, Nico? He stole his mom’s antidepressants pills once. What a desperate punk.”_ )

But, Will just had this kind of thing going that made Nico feel like it was safe to talk about his problems. Maybe it was because he knew Will for _so_ long that he felt that it was _O.K_ to talk about personal stuff that he never would have normally told to anyone else.

Or maybe it was just because he knew Will would _never_ judge him. He could fucking tell Will face-to-face in a public area that he wanted to pursue being a drug dealer or a meth addict or a damn _party_ _clown_ as a career choice goddamn it all and the kid would _still_ support him – or at least try his best to stir him towards a different path.

And the thing was . . . Nico _just_ might let him. Because he trusted Will _that_ much.

 _God_ , he was turning _soft_.

“And?” Will probed softly, smiling. “There’s still more to it, right?” Nico grumbled.

Will was _seriously_ going to be the death of him someday.

“I already told you enough,” Nico hissed and Will frowned. “If you want me to tell you more can we do it in like, you know, _not_ in a public place like school?” As if for the first time, Will noticed his surroundings and gave out a surprised yelp, and Nico rolled his eyes ( _typical of Will_ , he thought) and folded his arms across his desk and closed his eyes again.

“ _Idiot_ ,” he muttered in his native-dialect.

Then, the teacher entered and everyone desperately scrambled back into their seats, stumbling over each other as they pounce towards their desk. The teacher sighed and seated himself on the teacher’s desk.

Nico could feel Will fidgeting beside him as he tried to find a comfortable enough position for his butt, and Nico smiled a little bit, glad to see Will back to his goofball self (not the interrogating self where he forced Nico to talk about _every_ little thing that was bothering him) and he turned his head around and looked out the window, up at the clouded sky.

He could hear Will taking notes beside him. Nico idly wondered if he’d allow him to copy later.

* * *

“You spaced out again in class, didn’t you, Nico?” Hazel accused her older brother, who was busy leisurely scrawling and copying notes earlier that day from Will’s notebook, and the brunette sighed when she noticed how Nico ignored her in favor of copy pasting Will’s notes, who was eating his lunch beside Rachel and Annabeth like he didn’t care at all. Reyna, Annabeth’s classmate, was sitting in-between Hazel and Percy. Hazel, though, was standing up and glaring at Nico most obnoxiously like she had the rights to.

She sighed. “Honestly, what would you do if Will was permanently gone in your life?” Nico made a noise at that.

“I’d celebrate like hell, throw a party at his funeral and invite everyone from school,” Nico deadpanned, and Hazel rolled her eyes. Will heard this and nudged Nico’s side.

“C’mon Neeks, we both know you love me with all your heart,” Will teased. Nico snorted.

“Yeah, tell my best friend that.”

Will made a confused noise. “And who’s that?” He pointed a finger at himself and winked suggestively. Nico moved away while still writing notes.

Nico rolled his eyes. “ _Me_ obviously.”  Leo, who was sitting across from Nico at the lunch table, snorted into his tuna sand which and choked. Percy helpfully thumped his back and a chunk of tuna came out of his mouth (“ _wow there aqua man, easy on the back thumping_ ,” Leo squawked) and Frank, who has the same classes as Percy, moved away in disgust, closer to Rachel, who eyed the piece of food on the ground with twisted fascination.

“Jesus, Nico, that was a _terrible_ joke,” Leo said brokenly, grinning snidely. “But I can’t say that I didn’t find it funny.” Percy laughed and Reyna jabbed his side.

“My brother’s humor is near non existent, Leo,” Hazel informed, raising an amused brow. “All he knows is how to throw cynical side comments about his physical health.” Nico, who skipped eating his lunch so he could copy notes, shot back that he didn’t have the stomach to tolerate their bullshit that was their everyday conversation, and Hazel’s supposedly backstabbing statement. Will and Leo laughed.

“You’re always quick to add crude comments in an argument, di Angelo." Rachel leaned on her hand beside Will, who was hungrily devouring a chicken salad. “Aren’t you and your family supposed to be catholic?”

“Dude, Rach, thwat was un-cawed fow,” Leo piped up, eyeing Rachel through a mouthful of tuna sandwich. “Can’t yo’ tel’ Nico’s trying his bes’?” Annabeth threw a piece of bread crust at Leo, who yelped at the sudden attack and caught the piece of gluten through a sticky finger.

“Either eat or talk. Choose,” Annabeth reprimanded. Leo scowled.

“My upbringing and religion has nothing to do with the way I talk, Rachel Dare,” Nico said suddenly, his half-lidded eyes focused on the piece of paper in front of him as he continued writing. “Plenty of people in our school curse.” Percy laughed and reached across the table to thump Nico’s back.

“You see Rachel? He didn’t even curse you out this time! Nico’s turning into a new leaf!” Percy hooted. Rachel and Nico’s face flushed red.

Will rolled his eyes and slapped Percy’s hand away. “Your hand’s distracting him, Jackson,” Will said, grinning. Nico made a low sound in his throat, a sign of appreciation.

Then, Nico stopped writing and sighed. He closed his notebook and gave Will back his, along with the pen he had borrowed from him in their previous class. Will grinned and took it back, putting the pen into his trouser pocket then carefully shoving his notebook into his lunch bag.

Nico made a low, disapproving noise under his throat. “Will, that’s _so_ unhygienic.” Will gave him a weird look and swallowed a mouthful of chicken breast.

“ _That’s_ rich coming from _you_ , Nico,” Will said amusingly. He shoved the rest of his eating utensils back his bag. Nico stared at him and rolled his eyes.

“You’re so unorganized when it comes to anything other than health,” Nico unnecessarily commented, in which Will whipped his head so fast that it seemed as if it may fall off, and took massive offense to such an un-true declaration if his expression was anything to go by.

“Don’t you dare insult my cleaning habits!” Will cried, reaching for Nico’s hand to, the shorter boy presumed, slap Nico’s own face with it, thinking that maybe that was the most cleverest thing in the world. (He was probably going to do one of those stupid, ‘ _why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?_ ’ things that Leo pulled on Frank and Percy whenever he got close enough.)

Nico sighed, and made an opening so he could get on with his life.

But . . . something went _wrong_. Very, _very_ wrong.

When Will’s hand made contact with his, Nico’s chest and insides clenched and _twisted_ tightly and his eyelids shot open as he violently jerked back, heaving deeply as he stared at Will, who looked at him with a mixture of bafflement and surprise. His hands hovered to where Nico’s previously were, for the first time, not knowing what to do.

Will was hesitant, and whispered, voice laced with concern, “Nico, are - are you _okay_? Are you hurt anywhere . . .?”

It was silent, and Nico realized that all eyes on the table were on them – were on _him_. Despite trying and _forcing_ himself to steady his breathing, to chill and _calm the fuck_ down, _nothing_ was working and he had to bury his head into his hands to stop himself from shaking.

“Y-Yeah. I-I’m _fine_ ,” Nico managed, biting his lower lip to prevent the tremors from showing in his voice. “I just, it – it felt _cold_ all of a sudden.” He rubbed his upper arm to seem convincing, and shook a little. It was going to be easy to persuade everyone else on the table, Hazel included, because it _was_ pretty chilly since they were eating their lunch outside. And he was practically _buried_ under seven piles of clothes. But it was going to be much, _much_ harder to seem convincing to Will, who was sitting beside him this entire time and was staring at him like he was stupid.

Leo’s obnoxious laugh dissipated the tense atmosphere hanging around them.

He turned to Percy. “See? _I’m_ not the skin and bones of the squad, aqua-man,” Leo snickered, to which Rachel threw a brush at him and told him to shut up. Leo bemoaned and complained why everybody was throwing things at him today, and why Rachel even carried around a brush during what was supposed to be lunch period.

“A boy like _you_ wouldn’t understand,” she snorted, and Leo’s eyes widened to a comical level. Everyone in the table laughed.

Will retreated and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He kept eying Nico, though, pursuing his lips like he wanted to say something, but holding it back for some reason or other. Nico held up a hand as a sign that he was okay, and that it was pointless of Will to try and worry his life over it. Will smiled hesitantly, not wanting to leave the matter alone, before going back to consuming his chicken salad and chatting with Annabeth.

Nico released a wordless sigh and sat back down, and, when he noticed everyone was busy eating or chit-chating with each other, stared at his hand and rubbed it, feeling the heat flow back unsteadily into his blood streams. Slowly making his fingers move again, he moved his wrist, flickering it mid-air, and touched his aching chest, in which he felt his heartbeat thump at a distressingly loud and fast rate.

Rubbing a hand through his chest and releasing another breath to calm down his still-beating heart, he looked around the table, and locked eyes with Reyna, who he realized with a jolt, was staring at him this entire time.

She gazed at him intently, mouth set in a thin line, before averting her eyes and resuming her conversation with Percy, in which Leo and Hazel joined in with gusto.

Nico felt unsettled, but he decided to ignore it for now and stare at his hands, letting the previous events replay in his head as he refreshed everything that just happened.

Why . . . _Why_ did he react to Will touching him like that? It was _just_ a touch.

What the _fuck_ was the _problem_ with that? Will _always_ touched him, for _fuck's sake_! Why did his body have to _react_ like that! _Why_ did he feel like Will touching him felt like it was _burning_ his chest? What was the _difference_ between then and now? 

What was the difference when Will touched him _then_ and _now_? 

Nico’s eyes widened.

 ‘ _Maybe . . . maybe_ Will _wasn’t the problem, to begin with,_ ’ Nico thought, hands shaking.

‘ _Maybe the problem is_ me.’

* * *

Going, home that day ahead of Hazel and everybody else, Nico decided to re-search on this, and whether, perhaps, the previous week’s events were anything that he should be extremely concerned about. It wasn’t normal to feel chest pains whenever he could feel Will near him _right_? That just _wasn’t_ normal, right?

Especially not with _Will_. Happy, smiley-faced Will who was concerned for everything and everyone and wouldn’t hurt a fly even if he was forced to, was causing Nico an abnormal amount of pain _just_ by being there.

Making haste to his house as he rounded an alley, he didn’t notice his phone buzz and ring repeatedly in his pocket, or the amount of times the same name kept popping up into his screen. _No_ , what Nico was focused on was getting to his blasted computer, and re-searching the shit out of his chest pains, and ignoring everything else completely.

He didn’t even _care_ if it was important. Nothing was more important to Nico than to find a way to get rid of these annoying chest aches that only ever happened when he was with his best friend.

His phone buzzed. Nico turned it off.

* * *

**_(Sent at Monday 3:12 P.M)_ **

**_Reyna_ ** _: Nico, we need to talk._

**_(Mon 3:18 P.M)_ **

**_Reyna_ ** _: I noticed the way you acted during lunch, and it’s something that requires your immediate concern._

_If possible, meet me tomorrow behind school, and don’t tell and/or bring anyone else with you. I’ve a feeling that you wouldn’t like anyone else to hear about what I have to say to you._

_Tomorrow at 11:30 a.m._

**_(Mon 3:20 P.M)_ **

**_Reyna_ ** _: Don’t be late, Nico._

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico grows paranoid, and Will can't help worrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school is the day after tomorrow and i didnt do shit skajddskldjslks
> 
> my teachers are going to kill me:'D 
> 
> but hey, enjoy this shit and tell me what you think bai

* * *

 “Hey, Will, are you going home alone again today?”

Class had officially been dismissed by the bell, and students poured out of tightly-confined classrooms like a pack of sardines getting released into the ocean. Footsteps echoed, chatter was ensued, laughter was resumed as per norm, and the day went on as usual, like it was almost the end of the school year. 

The hallway was as rowdy and filled with people as usual and Leo, who had just come out of his classroom, was casually leaning against the locker beside Will, grinning. Will, who was just packing his stuff, turned to look at Leo, blinking, before shrugging. “’Don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask Nico and Hazel if they want to go home with me.” Will slowly closed his lockers, but not before Leo tip-toed behind him and curiously peered over his shoulders. He rolled his eyes.

“Man,” Leo whistled. “You are one overly- _obsessed_ health nut, you know that, Will?” Will, flustered that Leo was able to get a peep into his impenetrable locker, blindly slammed it shut in embarrassment and quickly turned to Leo, scowling like the smaller boy had just insulted his great ancestors.

“Just – please don’t ever say that again, Leo,” Will stammered, sighing after as he picked his duffel bag up from the floor and slung it over his shoulder. Leo grinned and stuck his tongue out, to which Will groaned at and pushed his face away. “You have no humility filter whatsoever, Valdez, and that’s a fact. A _fact_.” Leo cackled.

Walking down the foyer, side by the side, Will couldn’t help but groan even more loudly in misery as Leo keeps him occupied with poorly made on the spot jokes and puns, and he felt like slamming his head against a wall or shoving Leo’s face away to get a few seconds of minimal silence.

He checked his phone, frowning at how late it was, before turning back to Leo. “Aren’t you supposed to be heading home early today to start on that science project you and Hazel have been working on?” Will suddenly asked, desperate to somehow stop Leo from continuing his armada of witticisms. If Will found Leo somewhat annoying, then Nico probably couldn’t _stand_ it when Leo opened his mouth to say literally _anything_ at all aside from his ridiculous puns.

Leo halted, his eyes widened and for a minute, Will thought he would be talking about his science project instead of this ridiculous nonsense that he just loved spouting, before barking out loud in amusement. “You almost got me there for a sec, Solace! You just changed the topic, didn’t you? Didn’t you!” he accused non-venomously and Will’s face flushed with color, before grinning sheepishly. The smaller boy laughed and thumped his back.

Stepping outside the school campus, the cold, autumn air blasted their faces numb and both shivered. Will, who was wearing a jacket, tightened it around his body to regain the warmth he lost a few seconds prior and released a sigh of content. He was _sensitive_ to the cold. Leo, on the other hand, frickin’ _loved_ snow - dude would probably eat it if he could, and he only adjusted his woolen scarf a little bit around his neck, before jogging forward. Will kicked a pile of hail in front of him for fun before scrambling after Leo.

“Brrr, it sure is chilly today, right, Will?” Leo asked, sneezing as he rubbed his arms and closed his eyes, shivering a little to prove a point. Will laughed and nodded, hands firmly staying still inside his jacket pockets.

Because Will, who was, despite objections, as Leo pointed out, an overall health freak, was determined to _not_ get frostbite and die of hypothermia. He wasn’t paranoid per se, he explained when someone asked him about it once, just cautious. It was something that his friends, who were a _huge_ fan of ice and snow, would _never_ understand. They all could die of snow inhalation for all Will cared.

Raising his hands up and blowing into them, he turned back to Leo, who was still shivering. Will couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Why didn’t you bring a jacket if you’re so cold, then, Leo?” The owner of said name flinched.

“It wasn’t _that_ cold this morning!” he weakly defended, sneezing loudly after. “And _plus_ , my dad’s doing the laundry today and he was washing my favorite winter jacket!” Will turned around and rolled his eyes again. “ _Ah_! You just rolled your eyes at me again, didn’t you Will!” Leo exclaimed angrily. Will shrugged and tossed a Cheshire grin over his shoulders, and Leo groaned.

“Ooh, you’re turning out to be just like Nico, Will. It’s seriously _scary_.” Leo grumbled, muttering obscene curses under his breath that Will overlooked because the shorter was, believe it or not, his friend.

And besides, he did agree with what Leo said. Well, _partly_ , that was. It’s true that he was influenced by Nico, but not entirely, and not to the point that Leo had to _act_ as if Will was a cyborg copy of the gothic boy. He was _still_ himself, thank you very much.

Leo looked at him, before gazing down at his sneakers and grudgingly kicking a mound of snow. “He left school earlier today, y’know? That’s why you didn’t see him near your locker during dismissal. Hazel said he went home without her.” Will’s ears perked up in disbelief and he cranked his neck to look at Leo, mouth agape with incredulity. 

"You're _kidding_ , right?" Leo gave Will a dry look filled with exasperation. 

But can you blame Will? Seriously, come on! This was _Nico_ they were talking about! 

 _Nico_ went home ahead _without_ Hazel! Now _that_ was a very, _very_ strange occurrence. It wasn’t every day that shaggy-haired boy, who was _fiercely_ overprotective of Hazel, (that he basically glared at Frank whenever he got too intimate with his little sister even though the duo were _just_ holding hands) to the actual point of developing a sister complex, left her at school to travel home _alone_? Leo might as well be telling Will that the world was ending tomorrow.

“I can see where the flow of your thinking is headed, Solace,” Leo said, eyes rolling sarcastically. “Yes, Nico went home _ahead_ of Hazel. That’s a thing now. You haven’t been hanging around them recently, so yeah, you didn’t know.” Now Will felt like _fainting_.

Either he was over-thinking things like he always did, or this rendezvous happened often and he was unaware of this fact for who knows _how_ long?

“When did this start and why was I not aware of this ground-breaking news?” Will demanded. Leo snorted through his mouth.

“Jesus, I’m not a frickin’ _Hotmail_ , Will, why don’t you text Nico and ask him yourself?” Leo remarked, eyes bulging. Will shrugged and sheepishly pulled out his phone from his pocket, only to reveal that it only had twenty percent left. Leo laughed loudly and shouted, ‘ _typical_. That’s just _so_ typical of you, Will’, which made nearby pedestrians, Will included, glare at him.  Then, his posture shifted into a thinking position, pretending to not pay any heed to the pointed stares.

He turned to Will. “Will-dude, did Nico even tell you _why_ he went home early? I mean, sure, _yeah_ , I did say it happened recently, but I didn’t say it _always_ happened.” He shoved an index finger into Will’s chest. “And dude went home _way_ earlier than usual and it’s probably bumming and confusing the _shit_ outta’ Hazel.” Will scowled and shoved Leo’s face away, all the while murmuring something about personal space.

“And what does _that_ have to do with me?” Will asked, sighing as Leo peeked between his fingers.

Leo grinned. “I’m saying, Solace, that maybe _you_ might know something about why Neeks went home earlier than even _Percy_ , and _God_ that ass probably sprints out of class yelling, ‘halleluja praise the lord’ a minute before dismissal, seeing as you two share the same classes et. all.” Moving away, he shrugged his shoulder. “But, _y’know_ , judging through your stone-faced expression you obviously had _no_ idea about the events that occurred recently ‘till now.” He laughed and Will frowned.

Leo breathed through his fingers. “It was just an idea.”

“A bad one,” Will said stonily.

Leo grinned back. “But not a useless one.” Will chucked a hail of snow at Leo, and Leo dodged it, laughing.

Will sighed, cursing at his terrible aim, and jogged ahead to keep up with Leo’s pace, who was hopping from one leg to another as if he was walking through a barricaded mound of hail for shits and giggles. “I don’t know _why_ Nico left early. Actually, I didn’t even know that Nico _left_ early today,” Will admitted as he finally caught up with Leo, who was walking at a more _slower_ pace, thank God. “I haven’t been able to leave with Nico and Hazel ever since my grandma moved in. We’re still adjusting at home.” Seeing Leo’s house up-ahead, which was a two story building that was built by Leo’s dad himself, looked around to see Leo a few feet ahead, before slowing down a few paces so Will could catch up again.

Leo swung an arm ‘round Will’s shoulder, which he had to bent down at since Leo was a few inches shorter than him, and grinned. “Well, see you tomorrow, Solace! Oh, and pass on a hello to Hazel and the others for me if you run into them.” Waving back, Leo strutted forward towards his house, leaving Will alone in the desolated area to wave back like an idiot.

Turning around, he made way down the narrowed path to his destination that was his house, and marched onward, taking occasional turns from the shortcuts he learned about over the years. Rounding around a nearby alleyway, puffing out breaths as the cold, frosty air bit into his skin. 

Lowering his head, he grumbly kicked the snow in front of him, chucking it occasionally over the rusty road for no reason, before finally catching a glimpse of the tell-tale yellow hues of his house. He breathed, and walked faster, not wanting to be outside in the frigid snow longer than necessary.

Walking up, and rounding the front of his family porch, he swung the wooden door right open – his parents always left it unlocked – and threw his bag near the doorsteps. He shook his hair and shoes to rid of the remaining dirt and snow, and carefully hung his jacket in the coat hanger, tapping his foot on the wooden floor to signal his arrival, and skipped to the kitchen. “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Naomi’s head appeared around the corner and she beamed at the sight of her red-nosed, freckled son at the kitchen counter and walked over to him, apron and spatula in hand, petting his head. “Welcome home, William.” He grinned, nodded, and walked around, arriving at the family living room, to see his dad lazily switching in-between channels, wearing a plain white blouse and blue and yellow PJ’s. His ash blonde hair was messily displayed over the sofa, and Will rolled his eyes.

“Dad, I’m home!” he greeted, and his dad, who was partially deaf in his right ear, slowly turned around before grinning back, waving a hand at his son in acknowledgement. “Yo Will!” he replied jovially, and Will laughed, waving back, before leaving his dad alone to attend to his own businesses (i.e: finding a spare battery for the remote amidst the corners of their couch), and heading back into the kitchen to see what his mother was up to.

Naomi was busily pulling out a batch of freshly baked cookies in the oven, and the smell of it wafted through the kitchen, and probably back to the living room.

Will sniffed the air like a hungry mongrel, and grinned.

Sneaking up behind his mom, who was too busy tending to the cookies to notice her mischievous son creeping behind her, he took one of the cookies from the overly warm tray, carefully examined its goodness, and observed with joy how little pieces of minced chocolates were in it, toyed with it experimentally, and gave it a big, _big_ bite.

His mom, startled by the crunching noises, hastily turned around and gaped in disbelief at the audacity of her son, who was staring back innocently at her, as if a cookie that was meant for their grandma wasn’t just dangling around his mouth. They both stared at each other.

It didn’t take a moment for Will to bolt out of the kitchen, tail wagging between his legs as his mom angrily demanded for him to come back to the kitchen at once and he laughed, cookie still in mouth as he quickly chewed down the remains and swallowed it, before swinging the door to his room open and slamming it tightly shut behind him. He snickered into his fingers when he heard his mom grumble loudly downstairs.

It wasn’t _his_ fault that his mother had to start baking when it wasn’t even a holiday. Besides, there were plenty of those cookies. She should be _thankful_ he ate one so his grandma wouldn’t die of diabetes.

Strolling towards his bed and crawling all over it, he made way towards his window and threw his curtains wide open, letting the sun bask his room in warm glows.

He laid down his bed, still chewing the liquid cookie in his mouth, and was thoroughly surprised when he opened his phone to see one missed message from Nico.

He couldn’t help but frown. Nico _never_ texted him first. This was certainly a first. Was he in trouble?

Opening his phone, he flipped through apps before tapping on his messages, browsing the one Nico texted him with, and smiled slightly in relief when he read it. Thank God, it was just a normal message.

Will still laughed out loud whenever he glimpsed the stupid nickname he gave Nico three months ago. He never did know why his best friend decided to keep it instead of reverting it back to his given name instead.

**(Sent at Monday 3:30)**

**Nicolodeon Jr™:** _Leo texted me saying that I forgot to bring Hazel home with me and I feel like an idiot for forgetting that. Can you check on her classroom and ask if she could go home with you? Stupid Leo doesn’t know where she is, apparently._

( **Mon 4:01** )

 **Freckled Potato** : _Idk where Hazel is actually, I came home with Leo :/._

_Did you text her yet?_

To his surprise Nico’s text came before he could think of typing another reply.

( **Mon 4:02** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _K, sorry for asking you. Hazel said she’s on her way home with Frank._

( **Mon 4:02** )

 **Freckled Potato** : _lololol, are u going full-on hulk on Frank then if he makse a move on Hazel??_

His phone ringed and Will glanced at his phone, before snickering into his pillow as he continues typing.

( **Mon 4:03** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _I’ll kill him before he plans to_.

( **Mon 4:04** )

 **Freckled Potato** : _Nico, homicide is a crime_.

( **Mon 4:04** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : ‘ _Not if you hide the body it isn’t_ ’       
                                                                     — _skinny Leo, this morning_.

Will snorted. Nico was _so_ corny once you get pass his gothic skin and invade into his emotional barrier. It was one of the many reasons their friendship lasted for so long.

Before he could type anything, another message from Nico appeared.

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _Sorry, I gtg mom’s calling me, Mrs. O'Leary needs a bath, I’ll talk to you later._

_She says hi to your grandma btw._

Scanning it, he didn’t bother typing anything back since he knew Nico liked being the last one to text. Nico hated seen-zoning text messages for an uncountable number of reasons. Checking his messages from other friends, he decided there was nothing better to do with his phone and turned it off, flicking it away, before jogging towards his door and heading downstairs.

As he was hopping down the last flight of stairs, he heard his mom in the lounging room, talking with his dad about something. He changed destinations and peeked through the corners of the wall separating the kitchen and the living room. His mom was murmuring under her breath, rolling her eyes from time to time from what his father was saying, and he was grinning and rubbing a hand sheepishly on the nape of his neck, trying to explain something through hand gestures.  

Incidentally, Will noticed his grandma rocking back and forth in an old, wooden wicker chair that she kept for who knows how long, situated in the porch outside their garden and grinned, ambling towards her and kissing her tanned cheeks that spoke volumes of living a full life outdoors.

His grandma looked at him through her clouded glasses and smiled warmly. “Hello, Will.” She patted his head and he smiled slightly as her old, wrinkled hands gently ran through his hair. He sat down on one of the many miniscule plastic chairs that Kayla loved to play princess and tea in on the few occasions when Hazel came to visit, and gazed out into the porch, trying to decipher what his grandma could possibly see in their tiny and neat garden.

He often caught her staring at something, somewhere, in his mom’s garden, and although he had asked what it _was_ she was staring at, she had only smiled cryptically and put a finger to her lips, much to his bewilderment. He just settled for sitting beside her and watching the scenery flicker through with his grandma, content with just sitting beside her as she rocked to and fro in her wicker chair, humming a lullaby or tune of old, or tapping the handle of her cane.

“Is Kayla still at school, Will?” she asked suddenly, and he turned to look at her. Her faded green eyes bore kindness and wisdom, and he ached to know that she was probably grieving inside at the unexpected death that befell his jovial grandfather a few months ago.

He smiled back. “I think dad’s planning to pick her up, gram,” he gently replied, and her eyes softened, before her gaze shifted back to their garden, rocking to and fro still, gratified with spending the few remaining years she has left in that old wooden, wicker chair.

As he watched his grandma, who closed her eyes again and was smiling softly to herself, he switched his gaze, and stared down at his hands, replaying the bewildering conversation he had with Leo earlier today.

Gazing down at a ladybug that was crawling beneath his sandals, he decided to analyze things thoughtfully to himself, and his eyes sharpened a little.

Come to think of it, why _did_ Nico suddenly go home today earlier than usual? Aside from those piano lessons he told Will he used to take after school all those years ago, Nico didn’t actually have anything better to do at home than listen to music and do chores, and going home so early to the point that he left Hazel behind was _completely_ unlike him.

Was Nico meeting someone at home? A cousin, maybe? If he was, then shouldn’t he have brought Hazel along with him? Half-sister or not, they both bore the same blood--ah wait no, not exactly blood, then, since Hazel was _adopted--_  but it should have been near _impossible_ for him to forget to bring Hazel with him if they were having a family reunion or something.

Will sighs softly to himself. He should have asked Nico what was bothering him through text when he had the chance, he couldn’t _believe_ it completely left his mind like that.

‘ _Will, you dumbass_ ,’ he grumbled internally, plucking a nearby hail from the ground and chucking it at giant rock. ‘ _It’s only when Nico’s busy do you actually have questions you couldn’t think to have asked him earlier. Idiot._ ’

Shivering because he forgot he was outside and he left his jacket indoors, he picked up a nearby woolen, pink blanket that probably belonged to Kayla because it was lounging around her tea-sets and teddies, and wrapped it around himself, smiling widely at how _warm_ it was.

Nico _did_ say he was cold during lunch period, Will silently mused. And this was probably why. Although it wasn’t that chilly earlier today, it was still cold, and knowing Nico, who had an incredibly low immune system and tolerance for even the _slightest_ change in weather, he most definitely felt as if he could be blown away by the wind if he so much didn’t double the amount of sweaters and scarves he wore. Will snickered into the blanket at the thought.

But then, the shocking image of a pale-faced, frightened-eyed Nico shivering for a reason other than the frigid cold invaded his mind, and his smile dropped in an instant.

 _Oh God_ , Will felt like an utter  _idiot_. He should’ve _demanded_ why Nico had suddenly looked a chastised child during lunch period, because Will was his _best friend_ , and he would go through unspeakable lengths to find out why Nico had suddenly acted like that when Will _touched_ him, and to make sure he was okay. He felt like he failed as Nico’s friend, _and_ as a human being, to let it slide pass him so easily.

Did Nico acting weird during lunch one of the reasons why he left school early? Was it _Will’s_ fault?

 _His_ fault?

But Nico texted him back, and was even chill, albeit a little stiff since Will was used to getting his phone bombarded with a handful of emojis and emoticons, when he replied to Will’s messages, so he couldn’t be mad, _right_? The idea of Nico being mad at him frightened him. The thought of an angered Nico was arguably worse than a grumpy Hazel, or a silent Leo, or a melancholic Percy.

He should . . . he should probably apologize. Send Nico a text message, or at least ask why Nico left early. If Nico’s behavior has something to do with Will and he didn’t even _know_ it, Will should be held _fully_ responsible for it.

The sensation of a freezing wooden cane roughly touching the nape of his neck steered him away from his depressing thoughts and he yelped loudly and backed away, rubbing the reddening spot as he stared at his rocking grandmother, who was frowning down at him most severely. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, and blinked hard twice in alarm. Did he do something wrong? Why was his grandma looking at him like that?

“William, what are you doing bending down the earth like a reed like that?” she reprimanded, nose scrunching. “You’ll turn the milk sour and cause the flowers to wilt if you continue to wear that moody expression of yours.” Will looked up at the stern, green eyes of his grandmother, and smiled sheepishly, laughing a little as an apology.

Her wispy, ash hair shook back and forth in exasperation, and she slowly gestured for him to come closer, which he did, although hesitantly, afraid that he did something wrong to upset his mother’s predecessor. 

She gently tugged the sleeves of his sweater that he still hadn’t removed since he got back from school, and pulled him down.

Will was forced to fall back down onto the cold, freezing floor, and he quickly bended his knees forward to lift his ass up and stare at his grandma, who was piercing him through with her piercing eyes.

She lifted her hand, and patted Will’s head twice, pursuing her lips. “What’s got your mind in a twist, William?” she said amusedly. Will stared at her, before staring at his hands, his face filling with color.

He couldn’t believe his grandma saw through him so easily. Was he _that_ readable?

Before he could think of explaining to her . . . _something_ , his mom came in, and with her was his five year old sister, Kayla, and she grinned as she threw herself at Will, who smiled widely and welcomed her home, and asked how kindergarten was. He ignored the pointed stares his grandma was giving him, and sighed internally in relief when his mom gave her a plate full of freshly baked cookies, and asked her to eat them.

Kayla, who barely reached his hips, clung to his sweater and smiled up at him sweetly. “Hey, hey, Will! We did arts and crafts today, d’you wanna see it?” she asked excitedly and Will smiled but shook his head, and pointed at his grandma instead. “Why don’t you ask grandma if she wants to see it? I’m sure she’ll love it.” Kayla’s eyes lit up. She jumped down, and raced towards their grandma, and much like Hazel, was a full-fledged chatterbox and she immediately engaged the woman in conversation filled with yelling and praises of adoration.

Their grandmother’s attention quickly shifted to Kayla, and she smiled kindly at her and patiently listened to the smaller girl’s tales of how she helped a caterpillar cross the street today.

Will managed to sneak away to the living room, where he saw his dad busily drinking an orange juice and munching on a mince pie. He was reading a book. Probably _Sense and Sensibility_ by Jane Austen again. Will sneaked around him, too, and headed upstairs, where he quietly closed his doors and released a breathless sigh.

Will buried his head in his hands, and released a wordless groan of embarrassment. 

It was _one_ thing for his grandma to notice his problems - quite _another_ to tell her about them.

Leaving his door open so Kayla could barge into it easily without breaking it down and making his parents afford for another one again, he closed the binds of his window and flicked the lights open. Walking towards his wooden desk, to where his music notes and other thingy-mabobs where, he pushed them aside and flipped open his mac book.

Since his bed was near his desk, he took his phone and plugged the charger in, deciding that he’ll text Nico again later when his phone reached at least, an amount five percent.

“Will, dinner is ready!” He heard his mom yell downstairs.

He flipped his laptop shut. “Coming, mom!”

Throughout dinner, Will kept ignoring the occasional stares his grandma kept giving him.

Thank God they were indoors.

* * *

“Nico, mom wants me to tell you that we’re going out shopping today.” Nico, who was sitting still in a veil of darkness at his desk, looked up from his laptop, reading glasses perched high on his nose, and blinked, before frowning.

“At _this_ hour?” he asked, puzzled, and made a point of looking outside, so Hazel could follow his line of vision and see how low and red the sky was, and notice the blizzard stirring up outside.

Hazel, in retaliation, leaned against the door and rolled her eyes. She was wearing white, rubber shoes, skinny jeans (they looked _way_ too tight around her hips, he mused) and a long V-neck, green sweater. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun, letting a few curls hang around her small face.

 Nico frowned disapprovingly at the amount of collarbone Hazel unknowingly showed. Ever since Hazel turned fifteen last year, she’s been spending her leisure time outdoors with either their mom or her friends, and in Nico’s opinion, buying too much lavish and extravagant clothes that no girl her age should ever wear. Seriously, those pink mini-skirts were enough to make Nico gag and any other boy stare down at her like a wolf. Nico wished she took a more modest appearance, _especially_ since it was winter.

He always thought that maybe Hazel cared a little _too_ much on her appearance, whereas Nico always looked like he threw on whatever smelled and/or looked decent from his wardrobe.

Hazel, who paid no heed to her elder sibling’s pointed stare, smiled and walked over, giving him a light peck on the cheek. “Relax, bro, we’ll be back before dinner. Mom’s cooking up a feast again.” She giggled lightly, and Nico’s eyes softened a bit.

“I’ll take your word for it then,” Nico said softly, but still frowned. “Why don’t you put on a sweater or something, Hazel? It’s cold outside, you know.” Hazel rolled her eyes and smacked the back of Nico’s head with her hand. “Nico, I’m not made of glass!”

Nico, who groaned as he rubbed the sore spot with both hands, narrowed his eyes at her and scowled. “ _Yeah_. No kidding. You’re definitely a wrestler disguised as a girl.” Hazel puffed her cheeks, exasperated, before poking her tongue at Nico, storming out his room and furiously stomping down the stairs.

Nico snorted. At least there was _one_ thing about his little sister that hasn’t changed. With that, he turned back to his computer.

His onyx eyes narrowed as he searched and browsed through several sources on the internet, occasionally glancing back at his black-cased phone to see if Reyna had any new messages in store for him.

The text she gave him this afternoon gave Nico quite a shock, so much that he had hesitated, afraid that if he replied, Reyna was going to kill or beat the shit out of him, but he chastised himself out of such ridiculous nonsense. His insomnia as affecting his thinking; his emotions often overrode his rationality these days. He had somewhat _(somewhat_ being a huge, _fat_ understatement) managed to recover from it and speedily give back a firm reply, to which she had agreed to and promised to text him back at a later date after attending to a relative in the hospital.

It’s already been three hours, Nico was all alone at home, and was starting to get fidgety.

He switched his gaze back to his laptop, trying hard to focus, but all the sources he found were either useless or ridiculously unreliable, and Reyna, despite how cryptic and solemn she displays herself to be, was his best and only bet.

He started to have deep, un-reasonable doubts after glancing at his phone for the third time, and the silence was incredibly unnerving and aggravating. He was used to Hazel walking up and down the stairs, chatting to her friend over the phone about one thing or another, or his mom cooking away downstairs in the kitchen, or the news reporter in the TV, fading in the background as muted statics.

The silence wasn’t un-welcomed - just . . .  unexpected. _Different_ from what he was normally used to. Without the hustle and bustle and the normalcy of domestic house life brimming the air with energy, the house seemed . . . eerily empty. 

His dog was outside, but she was a heavy sleeper, and was usually active in the afternoon, so the house was deadly quiet without her slobbery kisses and noisy howling that usually made the neighbors complain a lot.  

He frowned agitatedly through his glasses.

‘ _What if Reyna was just . . ._ faking _everything?_ ’ he thought, eyebrows furrowing as he leaned back against the back of his chair, staring straight at the ceiling. Faking about this stupid, mysterious meeting, or the obvious hints she kept dropping that she knew what Nico was going through and could offer possible help. But could Reyna, _the_ studious and firm Reyna, really _do_ something like that? Prank him? Jump out of a corner with confettis and yell, " _surprise, motherfucker, everything was a belated april fools joke the entire time!_ "

He tried to think about her. They – Nico and she weren’t technically close friends, _heck_ , they weren’t even acquaintances. The two just happened to _know_ each other through a series of unlikely, turn of events. In fact, if it weren’t for Percy, Reyna probably wouldn’t have known that Nico existed. She probably didn’t even know that Nico _went_ to her school.

His phone managed to successfully navigate him away from his thoughts and he scrambled after it, pressing it open to see he had a few text messages from Will asking him how he was.

Nico just sat there, and stared, and stared, and _stared_ some more before _smacking_ himself in the face.

 _Shit_ , he totally forgot to text Will back! The latter probably thought he was a douche for leaving him hanging at the end line when Nico told him that he _would_ talk to him later. God, he was so busy thinking about Reyna that not one thought of Will passed his mind.

He opened his messages and flinched. This was sent an hour ago. Was Will even online?

The answer was obvious: _Duh_.  

Walking back to his bed, he laid, stomach on covers, and texted back a reply to Will, who magically revived the moment he received Nico’s message.

( **Sent at Monday 7:34** )

 **Nicolodeon** **Jr™** : _shit, sorry Will, I forgot you existed for a sec_.

( **Mon 7: 34** )

 **Freckled Potato** : Ouch _, couldn’t you have phrased that in a much nicer way Nico_.

( **Mon 7:35** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _That_ was _the much nicer way, dumbass_.

( **Mon 7:35** )

 **Freckled Potato** : _Oh, gee, Nico, I couldn’t tell bc of how overly sarcastic you were_

 :/

Nico snorted. Stupid Will.

( **Mon 7:37** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _That’s why ur a dumbass, dumbass_.

The next message Will sent made Nico smile a little bit.

( **Mon 7:39** )

 **Freckled Potato** : _you’ve literally said dumbass, like, three times now Nico_. _Why don’t you just use emoticons to make it easier or smth. Or, better yet, how about, shorten the dumbass to, ‘Will’ or, ‘bro’ or ‘boo’ or ‘besties’_.

( **Mon 7:40** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _that’s literally never, ever going to happen, Will, and you know that_.

( **Mon 7:40** )

 **Freckled Potato** :   _damn it._

 _I shouldn’t have added bro. I wish you were stupid and fell for that_ :/

Nico laughed. Thank whatever deity that his mom and Hazel weren’t there, because they probably would have questioned why he was laughing in the middle of the dark. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mom assumed he was trying to summon the devil or some other low-life creature from hell despite her knowing that he was catholic and has never even considered switching to Satanism.

 It wasn’t until Will’s next message came that Nico felt something wasn’t quite right.

He frowned as he read it.

( **Mon 7:42** )

 **Freckled Potato** : _But, for real though, Neeks, I wanted to ask you about something_.

Now _that_ seriously made the Goth boy _extremely_ skeptical. Will _never_ asked for permission or informed Nico of his motives, he always _demanded_ him for an answer. Did Nico do something wrong? Was it about the incident during lunch period?

Nico’s stomach dropped at the latter idea. He _prayed_ it wasn’t that. Will could ask literally _anything_ but that, because even _Nico_ himself didn’t know what had happened to him earlier that day.

And he had a sinking feeling that it _was_ about the lunch period incident. And he couldn’t confront Will about it, not _now_ , at least not _yet_ , because Will, even in text messages, could forcibly drill the truth out of Nico and Nico wouldn’t even _know_ it.

He didn’t _know_ how Will would react knowing that _he_ was the sole reason why Nico was acting the way he was.

Actually, _fuck_ that last idea because he _did_ know, oh he _did_ , and he _knew_ it wouldn’t end pretty for Will, who would never, _ever_ blame Nico even though everything that’s led up to this was _his_ fault.

 So he did what he thought was best.

He evaded the topic, (like a _coward--_  he ignored that thought) and bid Will a goodnight.

( **Mon 7:46** )

 **Nicolodeon Jr™** : _Will,... can we do that tomorrow or some other time? I got to eat dinner with mom and Hazel._

_Sorry, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow._

_Goodnight._

Now, Nico didn’t _and_ wouldn’t write something along the shitty lines of: ‘I gotta go to bed early’ or ‘I need to go to sleep’ because both were complete, and utter _bullshit_ and Will knew that. And, even _if_ Will was just a few blocks away away, he wouldn’t _rush_ to Nico’s house in the middle of the night just to check if he was telling the truth.

Will’s question could wait ‘till tomorrow, and despite Nico knowing that he was being _completely_ unreasonable and  _paranoid_ , he would just fluently evade _any_ questions about yesterday through carefully-constructed excuses. He wasn’t going to _risk_ getting interrogated by Will again.

His phone buzzed. He opened it, and his stomach dropped, but for a _very_ different reason this time.

Reyna had sent him a text.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So are you saying that me becoming your best friend just sort of happened?" 
> 
> "Yes." 
> 
> "God, you're unsympathetic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole chapter is shit because i finished it after school - meaning i was tired and sleepy. and i had no time to edit this. 
> 
>  
> 
> so if there are some grammar errors, incredibly awkward and cliche moments, you already have your explanation
> 
> but anyways, enjoy !

* * *

Kayla’s scream was so loud that Will was pretty sure she woke up every single goddamn occupant in the house, possibly even his partially-deaf dad and their neighbor who lived like, three doors away. 

Will quickly bolted upright into a sitting position, arms on either side as he stared firmly at the opposite wall, before quickly dosing off again as his eyes dropped forward and his posture bending backward. He was drooling badly, and his hair looked like a hair-due disaster, but he didn’t give a flipping _shit_ as he tossed the covers over his body again and prepared himself to drift into dreamland once more. He _hated_ mornings.

But Kayla hadn’t screamed for no reason, it seems.

“Will, wake up! We gotta get ready for school!” Kayla came barging in un-welcomed and Will groaned hard under his breath.

He was a _heavy sleeper_ , damn it all. Why couldn’t Kayla leave him be for five more minutes?

He turned around to squint at the blurry ginger figure of his little sister, who bounced up and down beside his bed and was staring at him most earnestly; grinning from ear to ear as she hugged Will’s groggy sleeping body with all her might.

Will smiled slightly and hugged her back, yawning widely.

At least she didn’t try to tackle him.

Kayla then jumped down his bed and raced outside, towards the direction of his parent’s room. As Will swung his legs over the bed and rubbed the haziness out of his eyeballs, he could hear his dad scream and his mom groan, and he snickered to himself, thinking that their reaction was funny, if not, reversed.

He slammed the alarm clock shut when it started making those annoying robotic bird chirping noises, and folded his breath, all the while still squinting and muttering vulgar curses under his breath.

Holding the wall for upright support, he stood up and grumbly made his way to the bathroom, and busted it open with his left foot, still yawning. Blinking once or twice to get rid of the sleep swimming in his peripheral vision, he dimly noted how the how the house erupted into chaos the moment Kayla kicked down the door to their grandma’s room. Naomi was going to have her head served on a _pitchfork_ if she woke the old lady up.

Will groggily started walking towards the bathroom sink, and splashed his face with ice-cold water. He blinked again, letting some of the water seep into his eyes, before drying it off with a nearby face towel that his mom probably put there yesterday morning.

Skipping to take a bath all-together, he decided to shove a toothbrush into his mouth instead and put on a decent t-shirt he found amid the mess that was his under-drawer, and made a mental note to fix everything later. Picking up his phone and plucking two earphone pieces into his earholes, he returned back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out, cupping up a mouthful of water with his hand, gurgling loudly, before spitting everything out.

Will ambled back to his room and shuffled around his drawers, before finding a pack of mints he bought from the convenient store two weeks ago and shoving a handful of it into his mouth, before munching them quietly through a closed mouth, shutting his eyes, and swallowing it whole before opening them.

Plucking one ear-phone out, he hummed silently under his breath as he put on a pair of boxers, before opening his door, and heading towards his grandma’s room, suspecting that Kayla probably got into serious trouble after attempting to jump their sleeping grandmother for the second time this morning – if her umpteenth battle cry was anything to go by.

Quietly opening her door, he squinted through the darkness of her room, and inhaled the scent of carton and shoe polish. They haven’t really brought her stuff out yet, after all.

Coughing out the dust that invaded his nostrils, he tip-toed towards his grandma’s sleeping form near the window. He carefully pulled the covers away from her sleeping body, and gently shook her back and forth in an effort to get her to wake up. “Gram, it’s time to wake up. Mom’s cooking breakfast downstairs,” he whispered near her ears, knowing that, like everybody else in their household minus his dad and Kayla, she was a very, _very_ heavy sleeper. It was going to take more than skill and persuasion to get _her_ to wake up.

His grandma barely stirred in her sleep before shifting her position, making Will sigh to himself in exasperation. He stood up, and walked towards the window, forcing the shutters to open and unlocking the window lock to let the sunshine pour in. His dad had built the shutters knowing how annoyed their grandmother got when heatwaves assaulted her room during Sunday mornings. The sun was literally the only thing to get her to wake up. He walked back to his grandma’s side, and pulled the covers off her, smiling to himself when he noticed her opening her eyes up before meeting his.

She smiled cheekily. “G’morning, Willy.” Will laughed. Nobody has called him that nickname since he was a feeble toddler. Trust his grandma and her sharp memory to remember that.

“Good morning, grandma.” He carefully held her back before helping her sit, grabbing her cane for her to hold in the process, and tying her faded blonde hair back into a tight bun. She stayed perfectly still under his touch,  her porcelain hands placed still on her lap as he bent down to her height, careful not to tower over her and rip the fragile hair right out of her scalp. Thank the Heavens his mom taught him how to tie long hairs.

Patting her shoulders to signal to her that he was done, he outstretched his hand for her to take, and he carefully opened the door, making sure that his timid and small grandma was right behind him to do so. Closing the mahogany wood behind him with the hilt of his foot, he put her fluff slippers on before a wrinkled hand stopped him in motion. Will paused, and looked up at his grandma in confusion.

She smiled down at him sweetly. “William, I’m not _that_ ancient. Why don’t you join Kayla and your mother downstairs while I get that stupid father of yours to help me?” Will laughed, but he made sure to make his fragile grandma sit down on a plush chair before skipping downstairs, phone and earplugs in hand as he shuffled along to the kitchen, where Kayla was having her breakfast and his mom was mixing salad in a bowl for their grandma.

Naomi smiled. “Good morning, Will.” He nodded and smiled partly, before walking around the table and sitting next to the head seat, where his grandma sat. Kayla was making a mess with her hotdogs and ketchup, so Will had to steady her chubby hands before she turned her plate into a massive disaster.

Naomi, with wooden spoon and salad bowl in hand, called Will over, and he raised his eyebrows and turned his head to indicate to her that he heard clearly. She beamed and gestured with her head at a box, edging near the kitchen counter, overflowing with cookies. “I made too much yesterday, Will, so why don’t you bring some to school and give a few to your friends.” Her ginger hair swished as she bent down to reach for the casserole, before her head re-appeared and she looked back at Will.

She smiled keenly. “And if isn’t too much, can you tell your friends Hazel and Piper to visit again? Kayla’s been _dying_ to play tea with them.” Kayla squealed and turned to look at Will expectantly, who twisted his mouth sheepishly as he nodded his head back in reply. “I’ll ask them if they’d want to.” Naomi and Kayla beamed.

Just then, their grandma appeared and she elatedly looked back a Will then at Kayla, smiling. Their dad came soon afterwards, yawning into is hand as he waved at his wife before escorting his mother-in-law into her seat, which she thanked him platonically, smiling a little. He smiled back and scratched his head, before heading back upstairs to get ready for his job.

Their grandma stared at his retreating form before switching her gaze to the direction of her daughter, who was fussing about the kitchen to prepare the casserole. “That Apollo boy has grown up a bit since I saw him last,” she mused. “At least he doesn’t trip down the stairs anymore and slam his head against the railing.” Will and Naomi burst out laughing at this, unused but pleasantly surprised to hear Will’s grandma say anything remotely funny, and both reminisced about it while a confused Kayla jerked Will’s sleeve and asked what her granny was talking about.

Will grinned down at her before ruffling her hair and meeting his grandmother's eyes.

She smiled enigmatically at him and laughed.

* * *

“Is Hazel coming over to visit us again, Will? Is she?” Kayla piped up and Will smiled down at her as they crossed the street. Kindergarten was a just few miles away from their house, and his little sister was always excited to go back to class and meet her friends. Will envied that, envied her eagerness. He was always a bit awkward when faced with a new environment, and it takes him a while to adjust, but Kayla had the same charisma and eagerness as their father that’d greatly affect her in the long run. It sort of made Will feel inadequate sometimes – not that he’d ever tell his five-year-old sister (who didn’t even know what the word _envious_ or _inadequate_ meant) that.

Skipping ahead of him whilst keeping a tight hold over her pink backpack, Kayla was humming loudly and greeting passerby’s children. Her dimpled cheeks were round and cheeky as she adjusted her purple snow hat and greeted a small pup a, ‘how do you do.’ It made Will smile a bit.

Jumping up and down amid the snow, Kayla grinned at him before poking her tongue out, pointing at her school, indicating she was going to race him ahead. He almost dropped his sister off when Kayla bumped into someone. Kayla, who didn’t see the tall black-haired stranger, stumbled back in alarm, scrambling after Will, who paused as he tried to decipher the foreigner, and clung tightly to his pants.

The stranger turned around, confused, and Will and his little sister jumped.

Nico cladded in an aviator jacket stared at them, phone with clearly overflowing messages in hand, eyebrows furrowed and eyes discerning as he looked down at Kayla, pleasantly surprised to see her before the little girl’s face lit up with recognition, and she quickly lets go of Will’s blue pants to cling to Nico’s own, who took a step back in astonishment.

“Nico!” she roared, and he raised a brow down at her in question. “You’re Hazel’s big brother, right, right? You haven’t visited us in forever! Brother Will said so though, that big sister Hazel would visit us again. Do you want to come visit us, too, big brother Nico?” Nico’s expression was one of pure confusion as he stared back at Will with clear eyes that indicated and rose the question of, ‘ _why does your little sister recognize me?_ ’ before Will pulled her away and smiled back at Nico sheepishly.

Nico looked down at his sister, who was blinking back at him in misperception, before bending down and patting her ginger hair, smiling gently.

He showed her his hand, and she, although hesitantly because she wasn’t as familiar with Nico as she was with Hazel, took it, smiling. “Hazel would love to visit you. Even though I’m sure she doesn’t have anything to do later this afternoon, I’ll ask her about it, okay?” Nico said lightly, smiling down at her and Will, much to his ongoing surprise and amazement, Kayla nodded eagerly, grinning toothlessly up at Nico before letting go of his hand and hugging his legs with a fierceness Nico probably didn’t know Will’s sister possessed. The elder of the trio snickered into his hand as Nico stumbled back, yelping.  

She looked back at Will and hugged his legs too, and he smiled, ruffling her fuzzy locks before she bolted towards the direction of her school.

Will and Nico both stared at her retreating form in silence.

But that was before Will nudged Nico’s side with his elbow, grinning behind his hands. “Way to go big brother Nico,” Will tittered, and the smaller boy groaned and hid his phone, pushing Will’s arm away.

“Shut up, Will. I was panicking for real when she just suddenly hugged my legs like that,” Nico grumbled back as he stared irritably back at Will’s eyes, and he was obviously about to retaliate, but for some reason, his eyes widen and he averted his gaze, harshly clashing his lips together. He turned around without another word, and marched onward, much to Will’s surprise as he cried after him, jogging up to match Nico’s rushed pace.

The sidewalk was infuriatingly cold as Will hugged his upper arms, shivering badly. He looked back at Nico, and noticed how he didn’t even react to the weather, which was really weird because he was only wearing one layer of clothing, and among all seven or so of their friends, Nico was the only one who was extremely sensitive to both hot _and_ cold weather. The bags under his eyes were more prominent because of the white setting, and Will guessed that his best friend probably didn’t sleep again last night.

It was _incredibly_ worrying. Especially since Nico doesn’t confront his parents about it. 

“ _I don’t want to worry them_ ,” Nico had shrugged when he had told Will about it for the first time, which was roughly around six months ago.

The park was empty at that time, which gave Nico the perfect opportunity to tell the one person he sort of confided in about his sleeping problems. Will had gaped speechlessly at him. “ _Too much drama, honestly. I’ll be able to sleep again when the times right. ‘Sides, I doubt my parents would do anything about it._ ” Nico’s dad and he technically weren’t on friendly grounds, or engage in activities that would inclusively make them talk civilly, something Nico freely admitted for the entire world to hear.

But past Will was having _none_ of that shit.  _That’s just your selfish view on things! Think about how your parents – no, how_ Hazel _would feel!_ Will had wanted to shout, but bit it back because, _one_ , it was rude and totally offensive and he didn’t want to seem conceited and ignore the matter of Nico’s insomnia all together, _two_ , Nico was always left vulnerable when Will yelled at him. Wil shouting or saying anything above his normally composed voice in general was like a baby cub roaring for the first time; loud and uncontrollable.

And much like the aftermath of the conversation both shared in the park about two centuries ago, they spent this time in awkward, plain silence, with Will trying hard to engage his best friend in a conversation and Nico doing his best to, for _some reason_ , avoid as much of Will as possible: dodging his touches, eye contact, and the overall lack of verbal conversation was driving Will to the edge.

Will, then, stopped trying to talk to Nico altogether when the pale-skin boy made it _pretty_ clear that he wasn’t planning to engage in another vocal conversation any time soon. He glanced at Nico often, though, observing him out of concern, and scrunching his pale eyebrows to try and tell what it _was_ about Nico that seemed off aside from his persistent and ongoing silent treatment.

So, instead of annoying his friend (as he was famously known doing), he took the time to take in Nico's profile, not necessarily sizing him up, but more of in a way to make sure his friend was dressed appropriately for school and in general public (to which Nico had made fun of him for a while back when Will had mentioned it in passing - he threw a snowball at Nico's face in retaliation).

He mused how his shorter friend's shoulder-length hair was tightly tied up in a high ponytail, even though a few strands fell into his face, and his black ear-piercings stood out prominently in the cold snow. Add the eye bags into the mix, (courtesy of the demon thing called insomnia) and Nico looked _unbelievably_ dangerous.

Nico had officially declared – _yes_ , even to his step-mom, who wholly supported anything Nico did as long as it wasn't badly affecting his life and reputation – he was wearing the piercings last year, to past Will’s astonishment, but the smaller boy had said that he had put them _way_ back in the day when he was ten through several failed attempts involving numerous numbers of safety-pins. Will had been way too scared to ask for extra detail. Still is, actually. (Sharp objects involving Nico scared him)

But even though Nico looked _cool_ – seriously, he looked like a secret member of a notorious biker gang or something – he was _riskily_ underdressed. He was wearing ripped, _ripped_ jeans and a thin white blouse over his jacket. It looked like Nico stumbled out of bed in his pajamas and grabbed whatever he could and threw it on himself.

Nico paused and looked at him quizzically and Will realized, with horror, that he had been _staring_ at his friend this entire time. He flushed and looked away, stammering under his breath. He heard an audibly loud sigh coming from Nico’s lips before he felt a hand hitting his chest. He looked up in surprise as he gazed at the knocking hand that belonged to Nico, who was looking away with the most un-seemingly prominent blush he has ever seen on Nico’s face.

“You’re creeping me out, Will,” Nico mumbled, still looking away. “If you want to talk, you literally just have to say so.”

Will blinked, before simply _gaping_ at Nico in disbelief.

He fumed. “I _was_! You kept ignoring me though, so I had to stop talking at some point Nico!”  Nico (finally, _Christ_ ) looked back at him this time. He looked deeply annoyed at first, before realization dawned on him and his face, which had been just pink a few seconds ago, flushed completely red. He looked like a fern among the whiteness of the background that was the hail and snow.  

“I—” Nico stammered, and his face further deepened in color.  He started to back away, and he bent his head down, frowning at himself. “I-I was just thinking about some  . . . some stuff. S-Sorry if I seemed off.” Will blinked, _hard_ , before laughing and swinging an arm around Nico to hide the fact at how relieved he was.

So Nico was just _pondering_. Will’s shoulders sagged with barely concealed relief. He had thought Nico was _ignoring_ him. Of _course_ Nico wouldn’t ignore him. Not unless he had a valid reason to do so. Will grinned.

The thought of Nico, his best friend who he couldn’t go a day without annoying, being docile for a whole day, made Will’s chest feel heavy. It made Will feel helpless.

But he brushed the melancholic thoughts away with a metaphorical broom and chose to enjoy the day instead. Nico was here right now, so what did Will have to worry about, honestly?

“Well, if this _stuff_ is bothering you so much, do you wanna tell me about it?” Will prodded, smiling down at Nico. “You know, being your best friend is really hard work; as best friend, I am obliged to know all your secrets, tattoos, secret lover, etc. etc. and all that jazz.” Nico, who was mentioned to be shorter than Will, rolled his eyes and lightly slapped Will’s tanned face, which the taller laughed and smiled at.

“Speak for yourself, Solace. I never chose you to be my best friend,” Nico stated.

Will whistled. “It just sorta happened?”

Nico nodded. “It just sort of happened.”

Both stopped and stared at each other, before the bright duo burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

While Will was laughing, Nico was holding his knees, and he secretly gazed up at Will, whose freckled bronze cheeks were graced with the most merry of smiles, fondly, smiling.

When Will had turned to look at Nico, the other immediately looked away, before turning back and smiling reassuringly at Will.

Will contrasted the snow with his tall built and tanned skin, and Nico’s eyes softened at the sight. “Let’s hurry up before we’re late for school. Education is important, you know,” Nico said softly, looking on ahead as Will chuckled behind him, throwing both arms high up in the air as he tackled Nico from behind and the goth boy, used to Will’s surprise hugs by the numerous ones from the past, held his best friend’s arms securely with his nimble fingers. Will grinned broadly down at him. “How’d you know I was going to tackle you?” Will tittered skeptically, and Nico smiled as he sauntered forward the heavy hail burying the cemented pavement, dragging a slouching Will.

“Because you’re predictable,” Nico sighed, and his annoying best friend laughed before jumping on a startled Nico, who let out an unmanly yelp as Will’s weight increased drastically. He bended forward to support their weight and scowled accusingly up at Will, who looked down at him with perfectly faked innocence.

“Will, let go, you’re heavy,” Nico whined, shaking from both the weather, and his boulder of a friend’s heavy body.

Will paused, before smiling largely. “N-ope!” Nico fumed.

“ _Will!_ ” Will laughed for the rest of the duration of their, in Nico’s exasperated case, tiring walk.

* * *

“I can’t believe you hung around my neck until we reached your locker!” Nico yelled reproachfully at Will, who was smiling carelessly at Nico. He was mindlessly fixing and gathering the things he needed for first period, uncaring of the seething and terribly crossed goblin that was his best friend, who was scowling and reddening by each passing minute. “Everyone practically stared at us, you know!”

Will rolled his eyes, and closed his locker shut. He slung his bag over his shoulders and looked at Nico ruefully.  “Nico, our friends laughing their asses off the moment we entered the school glued to each other doesn’t technically count as, ‘ _everybody’_.” Nico, who looked small and tired in his overly big aviator jacket, ruffled his hair with both hands and did his utmost best to glare harder at his clueless friend.

“It does to!” Nico argued childishly, raising both arms up in a straight square fashion to direct his hand into Will’s direction, who rolled his eyes and adjusted his shirt, ignoring Nico completely, much to Nico’s growing irk. “Do you have _any_ idea how much Percy and Leo would tease me when we meet them again later!” Nico shuddered violently at the mere thought of it because _oh the horror_. Percy and Leo were like two Will’s – like, two exact copy of Will, but ten times more annoying and _intolerable_ (and minus the obsessive health nut persona).

Will, noticing Nico’s distress, swung an arm around his shoulder reassuringly. “Calm down Nico. It’s not that bad.” He smiled. “They’re going to tease the both of us, anyway. It’s not just _you_. We’ll go through this together, buddy.”

“Don’t make it sound like we’re dying, Will.” Cue, Nico’s infamous eye roll.

“But isn’t that what’s going to happen?” Cue, Will’s trademark laugh.

Nico wanted to retort, but wisely chose not to, knowing that his comeback would lead to an hour-long argument with the infuriating blonde.

Instead, he chose to bend his head. “ _Fucking Will Solace_ ,” Nico twisted his lips and muttered hoarsely in Italian, crossing his arms across his chest in anger as he elbowed Will in the stomach and pushed him away, calmly taking off his aviator jacket and slapping a frantic Will in the face with it by swinging it forward with brute force.

 Standing tall (well, not so tall, with his sort of height) and, frankly, scowling down at a moaning Will, he turned around begrudgingly and made his way to class, while a hysterically apologetic Will ran after him with large blue eyes.

“H-Hey Nico! I was just kidding! I’m sorry!”

“Damn _right_ you should be you idiot,” Nico snapped back as he draped his jacket over his right shoulder, throwing a scowl behind him towards Will’s general direction, to which he almost _instantly_ regretted the moment he made eye-contact with Will’s pleading and apologetic eyes.  _Almost_.

Just because Nico helplessly succumbed to Will’s sweetened coaxing and persuasion most of the time doesn’t mean that it _always_ happened. Nico _still_ of course had a sense of pride and dignity as an individual still intact, _thank_ you.

So when Will approached Nico with still-pleading eyes and a runny nose (which Nico knew through-and-through was a _fucking_ _act_ for _Christ_ —), he determinedly suppressed the urge to release a tired sigh, and forgive his overly-concerned best friend with a knuckle-thump to his chest because _oh no_ , he wasn’t going to let his bastard best friend off the hook so easily _this_ time, _especially_ since _he_ was the reason why Nico had to turn away and avert his eyes every five _fucking_ seconds so he wouldn’t be randomly caught staring intently at Will.

“No,” he said bluntly, and turned away, harrumphing. “Go away before I hit you.”

Will paled. Nico was _seriously_ angry this time (well, he looked more peeved than angry, but Nico _always_ looked angry anyway – wait, that’s beside the point!).

Will chased after the latter and firmly gripped his shoulders, before spinning him around, grinning sheepishly. “Look, sorry Neeks, okay? I won’t tease you so much from now on if it makes you so uncomfortable. Jason and Leo probably to that to you a lot anyway so. . .” Will laughed to ease the tension, and Nico looked at him skeptically through his long bangs.

And _punched_ Will lightly in the stomach.

Will fell back with a surprised and pained grunt.  

“You’re just saying that so I won’t be mad at you,” he brushed Will’s hand away, rolling his eyes before picking the surprised blond off the ground through his backpack lace.

“Come on, _asshat_.” _Ah_ , sweet, sweet Nico was as creative as ever with his endless amount of weird nicknames, Will blissed. Nico probably stole the title from Leo. “We need to get to class.” Nico harshly tugged Will by his sleeves, and rolled his eyes hard, and furiously turned away.

The younger of the duo glared _so_ hard at his feet that other students who didn’t know him nervously distant themselves away a little bit (and by a little bit, I mean a _lot_ ).

 It’s not like Nico forgave Will . . . or anything. It was just that, his best friend tended to get really annoying if he Nico ignored him for too long, which was both infuriatingly flattering, _and_ confusing, but of course, that was completely normal, right? Because friends do that all the time  –  they look out for each other, that’s what Nico and Will do, and they were best friends, after all, so –

“I don’t need to justify my own damn thoughts to myself,  _idiot_ ,” Nico muttered quietly to himself as he glanced around, and shuffled his phone out of his pocket and nervously looked over the time, his eyes slanting anxiously, covering his phone from Will and his overly perceptive gaze, who was less than two centimeters away from him.

“What are you hiding from me Nico?” Will asked, grinning over his shoulders.

Nico grumbled. “ _Fuck off_ and mind your own business, Will,” he replied, half-mumbling in his natural dialect, glancing at Will before flittering back to his phone screen anxiously.

Will’s blue eyes rounded in bewilderment at the object of utter perplexity that was his best friend (who was glancing really often at his phone. Will’s lips twitched to a frown) was laughing again, and perceived himself forgiven (since Nico wasn’t hitting him with a punch to the abdomen or two, which was _usually_ a good sign. Usually.)

“So, are you going to tell me who you’ve been texting since this morning or what?” Will noted with amusement how Nico’s hands froze. “What? Did you think I was really that stupid to not notice that? _Come_ _on_ Neeks. Even _Leo_ could’ve seen through that façade.”  Nico’s eyes had _widened_.

“ _What_?” Nico alleged confusedly, shutting down his phone and shoving it into the backside of his pocket. Will stared at it, his own hands placed behind his back, where his own phone lay in waiting. “Will, that is _not_ cool! Did you look into my phone this morning when Kayla went to school?” Nico’s tone was only slightly accusing, but it did make Will feel kind of guilty.

“Hey, in my defense, your phone was out in the open,” Will muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. “You should’ve at least tried to cover it with your hands or something, Nico,” he added as an afterthought, seeing the black looks Nico was sending him.

As both were standing in front of the classroom, Nico turned away and took off his jacket, tying it around his slim waist. He looked at Will again, frowning.

“Don’t try to get smart with me, Will. It’s a violation of privacy. You could have just asked me who I was talking to instead of staring at me and acting like a freak.” Nico swung the door open with his free hand, the other firmly gripping his bag, and coolly headed towards his desk with Will in tow, staring dejectedly down at the ground.

Staring at Nico who, as always, instantly slouched into his seat the moment his butt hit the surface of his chair, Will placed his elbow on the table, and looked fondly at his best friend, who was rolling his eyes at Will playfully.

“Really? You would really tell me?” Will drawled. Nico looked at him weird.

“Yes. _Really_. Anything to get you to shut up.” Nico, defeated, copied Will’s actions, placed both elbows on his desk and lazily cupped his cheeks. “And why the _hell_ are _you_ of all people asking permission _now_? Don’t you think it’s a little bit too late for that?” Will grinned and flicked Nico’s forehead good-humoredly.

“I’m just worried. You don’t respond to my texts or messages like you used to.” Will’s expression softened, and Nico flinched and turned away.

Will patted his best friend’s head. “So, are you going to tell me or not?”

Nico blinked, eyes cautiously looking over his surroundings, and noting how late in the day they were if the cluster of student bodies surrounding Will and Nico’s personal space was anything remotely alarming to go by. 

Nico then looked at his overly-concerned friend, and swatted his hand away, before facing forward and lying on his arms, gaze dead set-on the whiteboard.

Will was affronted by this and reached out to grab, but paused when Nico, who again, looked small in nothing but a white blouse, turned away, and hunched his shoulders.

“ _Reyna_ ,” Nico whispered. “I’ve been texting Reyna.”

Before Will had the time to react to that, the teacher strolled in, and the students running for their seats nearly knocked Will out of his.

But Nico grabbed his arm, and softened a little as he helped Will sit down again.

“Just kidding,” Nico’s gentle eyes were contrasting his cheeky smile, as he retracted his hand away. “As if that would ever happen. Reyna and I aren’t close enough to do that.”

Will looked at his best friend in disbelief. “But, you just—”

“ _Will_.” Will, surprised, backed away, and Nico rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. Just leave it alone.”

Will reached out towards Nico, but saw the glares that the teacher was sending throughout the class, specifically at him, since he was staring so intensely at Will, and he stopped his hand in motion and gulped, smiling at is homeroom teacher self-consciously.

Nico grinned and snickered behind his hand.

“You’re a _dumbass_ , Will.”

“ _Hey_!”

* * *

“Hazel, are you really sure you want to go out with me this weekend?” Frank said nervously, gazing worriedly down at his girlfriend, who was flipping through her phone with the brightest of smiles, which always made Frank turn into a huge puddle of soft, mushy goo inside.

Hazel looked up form Frank’s lap, and laughed, booping his nose with her index finger. “’Course, silly! Why wouldn’t I be?” Lying outside behind an oak tree, Frank nervously looked left and right, anxious to make sure that nobody spotted him and Hazel in _this_ kind of position: with Hazel’s head on his lap and her knees pulled up closely to her chest, cuddling into Frank, who had his arms securely wrapped around her tiny waist.

Frank shifted his gaze down to Hazel, who was laughing at a picture of a cat. “That’s because you didn’t tell Nico about it, Hazel. You know how really worried he gets when you go outside on weekends without him knowing.” Hazel pouted and turned around, suddenly pinching a side of Frank’s cheek, which he yelped at.

Hazel scowled prettily at him. “You’re making me sound like a kid, Frank! Nico can live with knowing whether or not I’m going out without him; we’re not toddlers anymore!” Frank, nervous at her sudden angry outburst, put his hands up in defense, smiling reassuringly at her.

“I know that, Hazel. It just makes me worry that you didn’t tell Nico about it.” Hazel paused.

“Nico can make-due without me for a day. My older brother isn’t irresponsible,” Hazel huffed, turning back to her phone. “’Sides, mom’s home with him on weekends. I’m sure he’ll figure something out.”

Frank looked down at his incredibly carefree girlfriend and sighed, nuzzling into her huge tuff of hair. “Nobody knows we’re dating, Hazel,” he said cautiously, trying to make Hazel see the point of his argument. “You didn’t even tell your _mom_ you’re leaving this weekend! What if both your family starts worrying? What would you do then, Haze?”

Hazel pouted, but she continued texting. “I’m a big girl now, Frank. Mom doesn’t need to know what I’m doing all the time.” She stretched. “And Nico has been holed up in his room a lot lately, so the house is boring without a rival sibling to compete with for the final slice of pizza.” She giggled at this, before looking at her phone, signaling that she wanted to end the conversation right then and there.

Frank drawled out a long, _long_ tired sigh and groaned.

His girlfriend could be so _annoying_ sometimes. 

* * *

 The class bell rang, and both Nico and Will sighed out-loud in relief, with Will mumbling half-dead into his desk while Nico stretched and walked over to him, towering over his best friend’s corpse.

“It’s over. I’m done for,” Will moaned, unable to move his face muscles from what Nico could tell from the angle he was in. “I actually have this theory that school is just a secret, greedy slave-driving organization that is hell bent to make money out of kids and adults suffering and endless amount of schoolwork that could rival the laws of physics itself.”

Nico laughed at his friend’s accurate analogy and assessment of their situation before roughly ruffling his hair, bending over to look into Will’s eyes. “You are _weird_ when stressed, Solace.” Nico stood up and retied his hair with the hair-tie he stole from Hazel - which was black and stretchable. “But you’re an honor student, so I can’t say I relate.” Will groaned and glared at Nico through hazy sea-blue eyes.

“Ha-ha, I don’t want to hear that from someone who takes at least _three_ major classes with me. Which, if I may add, includes Math and Geometry – both of which are subjects that make me want to gouge my eyes out with a plastic fork.”

Nico hit Will’s head with his own book, which Will dogged sluggishly at. “Don’t wave that around, Nico. It’s dangerous.”

Will’s best friend crossed his arm and rolled his eyes, before bending down again to meet his eyes. “And _I_ don’t want to hear that from someone who tackles me first thing in the morning.”

Nico paused. “Oh, wait, correction, _mornings_ , because it _always_ happens.” Nico stood up and looked down at Will’s form coolly, while Will glared at him weakly through narrowed eyelids.

“Yeah, _yeah_. You win this time, Nico.” At that moment, Will’s brain system seemed to have completely shut down, and his eyes dramatically rolled back into his head. “The only subjects I actually like is science and lunch period – with dismissal an exclusive option, and I don’t think it’s worth going to school for those two things.” Nico snorted at him. His best friend was such a whiny no-good teenager sometimes.

Well, that was _sometimes_ , because Will was a hard-working and reliable honor student _most_ of the time. It was one of the many reasons why Nico had stuck around Will for so long.

 _That_ and the fact that Will’s mom made spectacular home-made cookies. He’ll never get tired of those.

 Speaking of cookies . . .

“Hey Will, you said you were bringing some of your mom’s baked goods over, right?” Nico shuffled for his phone and opened a few tabs before revealing the message Will had sent about bringing Naomi’s sweet delicacies for school, seeing as they had leftovers. “Do you have it right now?” Nico questioned, desperately trying hard to hide the note of impatience in his voice. He, no matter his gothic reputation among the student body, _loved_ Naomi’s cooking.

And he’d be _damned_ if he didn’t at least get his fair share of it.

Will was quick to notice Nico’s impatience though, because the godforsaken blonde could apparently read minds, and shook his head. “No. It’s in my locker.”  Will leaned on his hand. “Why? Do you want it?”

Nico was unwilling to play with Will’s game right now. He was sleep-deprived and starving, and he was _not_ taking a _no_ for an answer. “Yes. I want it Will.” Nico leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. The outside world was blindingly bright outside, and most of the students in the classroom already left for lunch, with the remaining few staying to finish their school-work. “I wasn’t able to eat this morning, since Hazel ate my lunch before I could get out of bed.”

Nico put a hand up to silence Will, who was about to protest to this. “But, yes, I _did_ eat a protein bar and drank a glass of water before leaving my house.”

Will frowned. “Is that why I found you near Kayla’s school this morning?” Nico flinched; but quickly regained composure and straightened his back.

“Uhh, y-yeah. The convenient store was there – but, I - I didn’t know Kayla went to that kindergarten, though.” Nico looked up at the ceiling, musing. His blouse was very near being transparent because of the sun emitting light from behind, enveloping the teen's body in a a warm glow. A few girls stared a bit out of curiosity, before turning and hushing away. “Who picks your little sister up from school, anyway? You usually go home with Leo, right?” Will grinned a little impishly.

“My dad picks her up. He’s usually out of work by that time.” He blinked, before realization dawned on him and checked the time on his phone. “ _God_ , it’s really late. We should eat our lunch before the bell rings, Nico.”

Nico peered over his shoulder curiously. “What time is it anyway?”

Will stared a bit more, before tucking his phone back into his jeans. “11:28.” Nico froze.

“Wait, _really_?” Will stared weirdly at Nico, who fumbled for his phone and quickly tapped down into it. “ _Shit_ , I’m going to be late!” Nico cursed under his breath, and scratched his head in frustration, before turning back to Will.

“Will, I’m need to go now, lunch period is ending and I—” He halted, looking back into the earnest gaze of his best friend. “I-I need to make it to the lunch rush. There’s a premium sandwich in the canteen that’s only there for a limited period of time. Everyone wants it,” Nico rushed out, re-wearing his aviator jacket. “And I’m super hungry.”

Will looked confusedly at Nico. “But didn’t you want to eat my mom’s . . .?”

Nico grimaced. “I’ll eat those later. But thanks, Will.” Nico grabbed his MCR headphones and rushed out of the classroom, waving back at Will before hastily dashing down the hallway and nearly knocking everyone down.

Will blinked and scratched the back of his neck, confused to what just happened. He had wanted to ask Nico about something, but the onyx-haired boy had left in such a hurry that all the remaining questions had gotten stuck at the base of his throat – and Nico had left in a hurry with the excuse of travelling into the canteen for a _premium sandwich_ , of all things.

“What was that about?” Will turned around, and saw Austin, a classmate who proudly wore the term, “ _I was born with this face, so deal with it_ ” like it was a  popular trend, had both hands buried deep into his jackets, staring back at Will, looking just as confused as he did. “Did Nico have an appointment with a teacher, or something?”

Will shook his head hesitantly. “He said he was heading to the canteen to buy a sandwich.” Austin looked at Will incredulously before snorting and pushing up his glasses.

“Why would Nico of all people bother wasting his time buying a sandwich? Don’t you usually buy those things for him?” Will flushed and laughed sheepishly. Austin had a knack to be such a deadpanned person sometimes; he reminded Will of Nico.

“He was really hungry,” Wil explained patiently, and Austin stared.

“Umm, okay. _Weird_. But okay.” Austin made his way towards Will, and looked underneath his desk and shoved a hand into it, and Will jumped and looked down at him in incredulity. Austin snorted loudly again.

“Don’t look at me like that, Solace,” Austin chided, still shuffling for something in _Will’s_ desk. “I’m looking for something. Remember that notebook you borrowed three days ago? Yeah, I need it back, my brother really needs it.” Will blinked before bending down to look into his desk while holding Austin’s shoulder.

Will whistled. “Is that all you need?” Austin stopped rummaging for a few moments before starting again.

“No. I need to re-think my life choices,” he said seriously through his hoodie. “I also want my sense of purpose and responsibility back, if I could.” Will rolled his eyes before hitting Austin in the head. The native-American barely responded to it. 

“ _Lighten up_ , Austin. We already have one edgy teenager in this class, we don’t need another one,” Will stated.

Austin rolled his eyes, before turning around to thoroughly re-invade Will’s desk again. “Stupid stereotypes,” he muttered half-heartedly.

Will sighed and looked outside, thinking that it was better than standing up and looking down at his friend who had zero respect for personal boundaries, musing that it really was a bright Tuesday – which was an all the more reason why Nico normally would never go outside. Nico was a living vampire who hated and avoided sunlight as much as possible, for numerous reasons.

So why had Nico decided to forsake Will and left the classroom, again?

Oh, _right_. To buy a sandwich.

That didn’t make Will any less worried, though. Why couldn’t have Nico gone with him?

Austin’s shout dragged Will’s attention away from the window and towards Austin instead, who held a blue notebook up in the air in triumph and grinned at Will. “Thanks, Solace! I found it!”

Will grinned back and walked away from the window, thumping Austin’s back good-naturedly. “No problem, Austin!” Both laughed, and Will decided to keep his worries at bay, and re-think about them later. Besides, Nico wouldn’t lie about something like that, right? He was hungry anyway, and Will was, too.

Will smiled. Yeah, it’s decided, he’ll just wait for Nico to come back, and when he does, tackle him ‘till the both of them fell to the ground and embarrass him shitless in front of the whole class.

It was his job to make sure to distract Nico from – well, from _everything_ , basically.

Will _was_ Nico’s best friend, after all.

* * *

“Reyna, I’m here, and I came like I promised.”

"Well, I can certainly see that." 

Reyna turned around and made the panting Nico momentarily freeze in fear as the solemn senior pinned him down with her steeled gaze.

She smiled.

“Hello, Nico.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico repressed his head deeper, deeper, and deeper into his knees, to the point that he was practically burying himself into the dirt, and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo, shits about to hit the fan,,,
> 
> uhh, a gross amount of italics and misuse of certain words. 
> 
> edit: there were some technical difficulties regarding this chapter which included a repetition of the one before slkjsdkfljd--also security measures that i had to take because of a stupid mistake in school u g h
> 
> anyways, enough of that, pls do enjoy !

* * *

 Hazel Levesque, a stately and popular teenager of sixteen, disliked and hated a lot of things.

And by that, I mean a _lot_ , of things.

And that wasn’t even an exaggeration.

It was typical perhaps, maybe even predictable, that Hazel would’ve ( _had_ ) eventually turned into one of those catastrophic mean girls you’d  only see on old 90’s sitcom, or DVD films. One of those stereotypical white girls who cared more about their heels and wardrobes than helping a feeble old lady cross the street.

But Hazel _wasn’t_ one of those catastrophic mean girls you see on DVD.

 _Or_ white.

Hazel grew up from a small state in a southern part of America, New Orleans, with her family of three—if she encompassed her prized pet hamster who died shortly a year after her mother remarried—or sometimes four, if she included her rarely-visiting, or at home father.

She had very vague memories of the man who claimed to have married and loved her mother, who at that time was a poor waitress in a Texas restaurant that gave her such a small amount of salary that it was almost laughable, or her childhood, which she slightly recalled wasn’t very pleasant at all – if her mother’s sealed lips about their past, or the fading scars marring her skin where anything at all to go by.

In a way, she secretly envied her step-brother, because at least _he_ had a decent childhood, with a mother, _and_ a father who came home in time for piano rehearsals and theatre plays in school events. And a proper bed, a good school, and comfortable clothes to wear on family outings.

Hazel didn’t even have a uniform and a proper pair of _shoes_ , much less a legitimize school to call her own. She studied with the other poor kids in the run-down building from the late 90’s downtown that the landlord had begrudgingly turned into a temporary prep school. It wasn’t a very fun experience.

And Nico, on the other hand, who had money and a home and a _life_ , had always, _always_ acted like he wasn’t born into this life of elite social-class and wealth – where his mom prepared him delicious food every day, where he had a dad to look after him, whereas Hazel and her mother had to scrap money and beg for food at each chance they got in their tiny apartment in Louisiana.

Bills were hardly paid, her mom and she were kicked out, and they lived in on a relative for a few weeks, before eventually having to leave (or getting kicked out too, depending on how you want to interpret the situation).

Bills, more bills, kicked, leave, eat, sleep, live – repeat. The cycle never ends.

That’s why when her mom , somehow, someday, ( _miraculously,_ she now thinks) managed to _snag_ a wealthy business man with a prominent reputation and some serious cash, Hazel felt like God, from her rare visit to the catholic church uptown, really, really _did_ exist, and finally granted her mom and her some financial closure.

But _no_ , it wasn’t like that at _all_ , because her mother hadn’t mentioned that her husband-to be had a _son_.

A distant, icy, with a stick up his ass _son_ , no less.

Hazel isn’t – _wasn’t_ kidding when she thought there was a ghost lurking in the house when she first moved in. The stairs kept creaking, the lights turned on and off in the mornings, and, she swore up and down, heard a low murmur or humming kind of noise through the walls, almost like _crying_. Her step-dad had looked at her weird when she mentioned it, and said that his _son_ – a _boy_ of all things. A human _boy_. He had a _boy_ living with him – liked to wander around the house randomly in deep thought.

When he said this, she looked at her mom straight in the eyes, and demanded in her most serious voice, a divorce.

Her mother had spat out her orange juice, and her sort-of-dad-but-not-really-dad-yet had looked at her over his big newspaper like she had grown three heads.

It wasn’t even _because_ she had thought there was a ghost in the house, but the prospect of living with a _boy_ for most likely the rest of her life (it didn’t occur in her frightened seven year old brain that she wasn’t going to live in that single terrace Virginian house forever—but _she_ didn’t _know_ that.) was a disgusting enough concept in itself.

While both adults – mainly her mother whose throat trembled horribly from cultural shock – did their best to regain their broken composure that shattered from the loud outburst (and Hazel was seven for crying out loud – ho did she even know the word _divorce_?), Hazel just stood there, head held up high and eyes blazing determinedly.

 _Fine_ , let that business man judge her, let her mother’s opinion of her lessen drastically, she didn’t care.

It was enough of a strain for her to at least, _try_ and accept her mom’s new husband when she still hadn’t quite got over her old one, but to live with a boy under the _same_ roof, sharing the _same_ lunch table, _and_ the _same_ bath tub? Hazel would rather have the tooth fairy steal all of her pocket money or a cat attack her on the streets and give her _rabies_.

There was no _way_ Hazel was living in the same house with a _boy_.

“Father?” All three heads turned around the table, and Hazel had blinked owlishly, slowly, like an idiot.

A small and tanned boy, probably no older than her, stood at the doorway, clutching the doorframe with his left hand, cladded in a pair of black overalls and a white blouse. He looked back at them with blank eyes that made Hazel shiver slightly in alarm. His hair was tied up in  black band but a few curls dripped down his face in defiance, and his socks, covered in black doll shoes, were neat and pristine, a complete contrast to Hazel’s frizzy hair and dirty girl shoes.

 He looked like someone who would shun himself away from any form of social contact to read a thick book in the library.

Her step-dad stood up and smiled thinly, his black eyes softening a little bit. In his tight get-up pajamas and black slippers, he looked extremely tired, like he just took an urgent plane to Moscow and back. Walking as slow as possible, probably even deliberately, towards the unmoving boy, he towered over him and, surprising Hazel, wrapped his dangly-long arms around the boy’s incredibly tiny frame – so small in his white blouse and black overalls that he made Hazel’s step-dad look like a giant. “Nico. It’s good to see you.”

He smiled down, and the boy stayed still, his arms firmly staying at his sides, gazing forward. He didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

With a pained grunt, he turned around and gripped the boy’s hand in his, guiding him towards the lunch table, towards where everyone else was. “Nico, I would like you to meet someone.” Nico stared up at him, then at the two females lounging around the dining table, one gaping funnily at him like a fish out of water, and the other coolly examining him with a warm smile.

Haze’s step-dad bent down, and decisively looked at the boy in the eye. Onyx eyes clashed with each other like splashed ink on paper. “ _Figlio_ , I know what you’re thinking, and these past few weeks have been hard and difficult for us – for _you_.” The emphasis was whispered so quietly, that Hazel had to strain her ears to hear it. “But I want you to know that it’s okay, all right? _I’m_ still here. Please understand, Nico.” Hazel didn’t know what _Figlio_ meant, (her knowledge of the funny language her step-dad called Italian was limited) but it was probably something personal and intimate, since the boy’s expression shifted into something more . . . _human_.

He stood up and walked towards Hazel, placing a firm hand on her shoulder that nearly made her flinch. “And it won’t just be _you_ and _me_ anymore, Nico. From now on, we’re a family of _four_ , again.” His grip on Hazel’s shoulder tightened as he gazed coolly into his son’s shining eyes. “ _All_ of us.”

Both mother and daughter held their breath, anticipating for the little boy’s reaction to the . . . shocking turn of events.

“ . . . _All of us_?” the boy whispered, looking into Hazel’s eyes. His gaze, if possible, grew _colder_.

He stared her down, and Hazel nearly shrunk in herself.

It was like he was trying to convey how much he _hated_ her from a single look.

(And it was _working_.)

But then, his gaze shifted to his father’s and without warning, his expression changed into something much, _much_ darker. His eyes widened maniacally with barely concealed rage, his tiny fist, which had stayed still to his sides all this time, shook and trembled, and _bled_.  His hands _bled_ , they were actually _bleeding_. They were bleeding from the amount of pressure he _won’t stop pouring into it_. “You, of all people, _father_ , decided to remarry? Right after – after _everything_?” he whispered under his breath, raising a shaking finger accusingly, eyes ablaze with tears and anger. “Right after mother and Bianca’s deaths, you went out of the country to _marry another woman_? And you didn’t _tell me anything_?”

Hazel and Nico’s father narrowed his eyes. “Nico, it isn’t anything like that—”

“But it is!” he shrieked accusingly, directing his finger towards Hazel and her mother. “Do you . . . do you really think so little of mother and Bianca that you decided that it was perfectly okay to marry another woman and adopt a child? Is that it, _father_?” His lips jutted forward, and tears freely cascaded down his cheeks. His father’s eyes narrowed further in warning, but Nico continued. “Is that what we are? Is that what _I_ am? Are _we_ nothing but replacements? To be thrown away when we’re _not needed_?”

(His tone took on such a shrill and high turn that Hazel was pretty sure that his voice could’ve cracked window and shattered ice.)

Hazel’s father had slapped the boy’s cheeks so quickly that she felt as if he had transported from one place to another.

Nico had tumbled back so hard from the force of his father’s slap that even blinking a bit hurt him. He held a tentative hand towards his bruised cheek, and gazed tear-filled, quivering orbs up at his father’s eyes; whom calmly looked down at Nico with barely concealed rage, palm out in the air, as if ready to strike again if Nico even dared to raise his voice at him.  

Nico’s father looked down at his son with cold, _cold_ icy eyes that almost mimicked Nico’s own, and burning cheeks ablaze with anger. “Don’t you _ever_ use that tone against me _ever_ again, _Nico di Angelo_ ,” he growled lowly under his breath, staring Nico down indifferently, seemingly not caring at the damage he had _just_ inflicted upon his _only_ son.

Hazel’s mother had stood up abruptly, and soothingly held her husband’s hand, urging him to stop. He managed to calm down, sort of, and he looked at ( _at_ , not _down_ – he was gazing at her with such complexity, such mutual respect in his eyes that Hazel felt all her defiance crashing down like a tidal wave) Hazel’s mother with tired and grateful eyes. 

“Thank you, Marie,” he whispered, and she smiled kindly at him.

“ _Marie_?” Both adults looked at the pitiful sight that was Nico’s shaking body, and he looked up at his father with newfound hatred that had shocked Hazel because she _never_ looked at her father like that; even when he came home drunk and stoned. “So not only did you remarry, but you even picked a woman whose name resembled _mother’s_.” Hazel’s step-dad’s eyes blazed again, but Marie shook her head.

Nico observed their silent exchanged with resentment, and sneered. “Maybe _we’re_ not the replacements after all, _father_ ,” he spat, standing up, still cradling his bruised cheek. “Maybe _they_ are.” He pointed at mother and daughter duo again.

He looked back at his father, still gazing up at him with burning eyes. “I’ll tell you this now, _father_. You may remarry as much women as you want, and you may adopt as many foster children as you would like.” He lowered his finger, and stopped shaking. “But I will never, _ever_ accept _any_ of them into our family.” His eyes shone again, but this time, in defiance as he stared his father head-on. “You may think me unreasonable, but _nobody_ , and I repeat _nobody_ , not even if the priest or the government say otherwise, would ever be good enough to replace Mother and Bianca. _Ever_.”

His eyes shone again. “That’s – that’s not—”His voice turned shrill, before dipping into that familiar small, vulnerable voice that left Hazel stumped and her mother breathless. Nico had gazed at his father – the man whom her step-brother probably loved and respected deeply with all of his heart, the man who betrayed his trust the moment his skin made harsh contact with Nico’s cheek – with such resignation, such sadness, that she felt as if she was looking at someone older, someone more mature – not an eight year old boy throwing a tantrum.

He looked at the mother daughter duo, then at his father, and gave him a tight and sad, _sad_ smile. “T-That’s—” He inhaled sharply. “ _That’s not how families work_ , Papà!” With wobbling legs and teary eyes, he furiously wiped away the remaining water fluids cascading down his cheeks, and, without another word, turned tails and ran away, slamming the door behind him as his footsteps retreated down the long hallway and disappeared.

Leaving the family of three staring at the wooden door in stunned silence. 

* * *

Class was as boring and furiously long as usual, especially without his best friend to make it more bearable.

So when the class bell rang and signaled the end of the day, successfully pulling the attention of several student’s away from the dull teachings of the chemist teacher, who didn’t even try to look the part because he stumbled in through class in yellow pajamas and an overused lab coat thrown over his slumped shoulders, Will bypassed through his squinted gaze and left the classroom early.

He sauntered over the countless bodies of strangers he probably only talked to once, bored. Even though he was branded as a friendly senior who knew every student and teacher in campus, that doesn’t necessarily mean he shared any sort of intimate or close relationship with them – take his friend Austin for example.

He managed to reach his locker in the nick of time amidst the cluster of students pushing him back— _Jesus_ , people these days don’t even have the common decency to apologize when they push someone over—and clutched the edge of the wall to avoid getting flattened by the hordes of student making a bail for the exit. With their rushed footsteps and rude hand gestures, it was like they were trying to break free from a _prison_ or something (in technical term, that _did_ hold some form of truth in it, but Will wasn’t going to dwell too much on that. Recall: Grandma Porch incident.)

His eyes scanned over the perimeter anxiously, willing for a shaggy, onyx-haired blob to stumble in through the gateway, and _reassure_ Will that he was alive – if barely. Will was worried. Very, _very_ worried. Nico hadn’t appeared in class after lunch, and maddeningly enough, he was _strictly_ prohibited from leaving class ( _stupid honor classes, stupid stuck-up teachers, stupid, stupid—_ ), not only that, but Nico wasn’t responding to his text.

How goddamn long could a line for a premium sandwich possibly be?!

Up ahead, he saw Hazel stroll in through the entrance leading out to the basketball and football court, with Frank following closely behind her, carrying two lavishly pink bags that most likely belonged to her. Hazel continued to text and walk, meanwhile entangling her arms into Frank’s own, deepening his burden of carrying two bags of _heavy school books_. He might’ve been a jock, the medical geek mused, but he wasn’t a weight-lifter.

Will watched them both for a while, his anxiety tap-dancing on the tip of his nerves, before deciding to walk over and help his burly friend out instead of watching in the sidelines like an asshole. Hazel briefly glanced up to look at Will, before grinning broadly at him and tossing him an air-kiss. Will rolled his eyes.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe that Hazel was Nico’s actual younger sister because of how distinctively different they both were. Appearance and personality wise.

But then _again_ , they weren’t tied by blood.

He looked over Hazel’s purple sweater and saw Frank giving him a tired but grateful grin.

 _You okay?_ Will mouthed in concern, holding up the other pink bag just so Frank could realize that Will had lessen his burden a little bit. Frank shrugged one-sidedly, coincidentally glancing down at the mass of book bags he was chivalrously carrying for Hazel, un-bothered.

 _Wow_ , was Will’s first thought as Frank continued to glisten with sparkly sweat under the book pressure; _what a masochist_ , was the second.

Hazel looked at the bag of books fluctuating around in Will’s left hand, before looking back at Frank, then at Will, before rubbing her neck bashfully and wordlessly taking the bag from Will’s hand. Will squinting at them both, glad that they were somewhat going to resolve this issue.

(It wouldn’t really have been an issue though if Hazel didn’t decide to dump all her school things on Frank, but Will wasn’t going to mention that to her. Hazel didn’t like unnecessary side comments. )

Hazel turned to look at Will, and vaguely gestured towards the lockers – one hand on hip et all. “Lead the way, sunshine boy.” Will rolled his eyes at the stupid nickname (Goddamn Leo) and pulled her hand down, much to her poorly disguised surprise. Will snorted.

“Maybe you should help your boyfriend carry your things first before bossing me around, Haze?” Hazel blushed and scowled at him, her overly-gelled hair bobbing along with her frantic denial as she vigorously shook her head back and forth. “Frank is _not_ my boyfriend!”

Will yawned into his hand. “’K. Whatever you say, Hazel.” He jostled the bookcases in his hand and carefully dumped them into his shorter friend’s outstretched arms. Hazel jolted back in surprise. Frank gazed at the duo with a mixture of confusion and palpable relief – it was obvious from the way his mouth twitched upward and his eyebrows creased together less.

Will frowned disapprovingly. Was Nico’s occasional staring-off-into-space momentums related to Frank and Hazel – or _Hazel_ , in general? It would be plausible enough, anyway; Nico worried more about Hazel’s well-being than he did to his own.

Nico more often than not tripped on thin air with the excuse that he was thinking about his sister, after all.

“So, like, Hazel, where are you going anyway with all that baggage?” Because even though Hazel was a fiercely independent and responsible teenager who was well capable _of taking care of herself_ (as he had pointed out to Nico on more than one occasion and with his deaf best friend blankly staring at him like he grew a second head), she wasn’t very known in the fields of academic. That was _Nico’s_ job. His _responsibility_ , in a more intellectual term (his best friend’s dad’s term – he tried not to think about that).

Hazel shrugged, Frank wheezed, and Will snickered behind his hand. “Classroom. Got something planned to do with the girls later.” She hipped out her phone from her pocket and made a point of scrolling through her text messages and shoving the phone into Will’s face with gusto. “I mean like, we need to plan for the outing this weekend and stuff. It’s so hard to go outside these days because of the weather, Will.” She turned back to Frank and took some of the books, giggling. “And, ehehe, sorry, Frank. Say something next time when I go into diva-move, okay?”

Frank rolled his eyes, but smiled at Hazel with fond exasperation. “Yeah. Uh, whatever you say, Haze.”

“Sooo, even though I don’t want to ruin the obvious chemistry that’s currently happening between the two of you right now, can you guys move aside for a bit?” Will smiled impishly as both his friends turned red with embarrassment. “You do realize we’ve been standing in the hallway for like, five minutes now, right?” Hazel and Frank both scampered out of the way, and Will couldn’t help but laugh loudly at them while Haze gave him the stink eye. “You’re so mean, Will!”

Will blinked. “Me? Mean? _Please_ , Hazel.” He crossed his arms. “You of all people should know I’m just looking out for your well beings.” Hazel laughed.

“No – not really.” She rolled her eyes and nudged Will’s side. “Anyway, me and Frank are leaving now – planning, classes et all. So like, if you don’t have anything else to tell me, then we’ll talk later.” She winked at him and Frank laughed.

“Don’t tease him too much, Hazel,” Frank chided. Hazel giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Why, I won’t dare!” Hazel wrapped an arm around her torso and pretended to faint. “Will is my brother’s _precious_ boyfriend after all.” Frank choked on thin air.

It took everything in Will to _not_ look like a fully ripe tomato.

“ _Hazel_!” She laughed and continued to nudge his side.

“Wimp,” she mused.

Will sighed. He felt like he would rather shove a fork up an uphill water-stream rather than listen to Hazel’s banter. “Well, the problem is related to your brother, so yes to that – _no_ , not the wimp comment, Hazel, _God_.” He crossed his arms and gave a nasty glare in Hazel’s direction. She barely flinched. “So, I met Nico in front of my sister’s primary school this morning and long story short, he sort of invited you – and himself, somehow – over to my house all on his own. Well, that’s actually Kayla’s fault anyway.” He shuffled his feet and shrugged. “I was wondering after your scheming with your girl friends, you and Nico could come to my house to play with Kayla later?” Frank was somewhere in the background, tumbling over himself with laughter.

Hazel rolled her eyes and elbowed Frank in the stomach. Frank spluttered and tossed her a glare. “Sorry to let you down Will, but I can’t.” She regarded Will with apologetic eyes and a helpless shrug. “I’ve got something planned later after school.” Will’s shoulders slumped back with disappointment, but regardless, manage to give Hazel a weak grin of appreciation.

Oh, well, in a way, Will sort of expected that – Hazel was an active person after all. It was just going to be a massive pain in the ass when he tells Kayla about it, though. His too overly attached sister would burst into tears, and start wailing the house down.

“Tell her I said hi though, okay?” Hazel added hastily, seeing Will’s blanching expression. “Next time for sure, I’d go visit her. Just not today. This week’s the busiest time of the semester, and Frank still has a class he needs to attend to after lunch.” Frank gave Hazel a dirty look. “Shut up Frank. You know it’s true. Stop trying to deny it.” Frank grumbled under his breath and shuffled forward with Hazel’s bags, and frantically gestured for her with his head to get a move-on. She laughed and poked a tongue out at him.

She spun back to face Will and flashed him another grin. “I’m really sorry, Willy.  Tell my big brother I couldn’t make it, k?” She placed an index finger in front of her mouth and pursued her lips. “And don’t tell him about my meeting with the girls. He’ll get mad at me.” Will laughed and thumped her in the bag.

“Yeah, yeah. Just leave already, Hazel.” She laughed and nodded, but waved a few more times for extra good measures, before scuffling after Frank and practically gluing herself to his side.

Will watched them leave with a wry smile, feeling very much like a whimsical old man. _Teenagers_.

Okay.

Old man montage over. Now it’s back to being a student. And looking for Nico.

He froze.

Oh, _hell_.

He forgot about _Nico_.

 Will quietly turned around and started scrambling around the hall in a frenzied panic – accidentally tumbling and pushing a few people aside, which earned him a few surprised gases and occasional snort of annoyance. He released a hasty apology before re continuing in his previous activity that required his much immediate attention – the number one reason mainly being finding out where Nico could have possibly run off too to skip nearly _two periods of class._

Where the _heck_ was that boy anyway?! Did it really take an entire class _(two_ classes, he corrected) period to buy a _premium sandwich_ from the canteen that was a five minute walk away?!

Yeah, sure, for other students, skipping a few classes may not be that big of a deal, whatever suits their boat, _right_? But Nico couldn’t afford to miss even a _single_ class. Will literally meant it when he said academics where Nico’s job – that’s because he was _obliged_ to, it was _mandatory_ for him. Nico was bounded to it – he was shackled. The school will not accept anything _less_ from a di Angelo.

Those . . .  those were the conditions Nico’s dad had set for him ever since he entered high school. Ever since . . .

 _Shit_. If his dad somehow manage to find out Nico skipped not only _one_ , but _two_ periods of classes today . . .

“Nico di motherfrickin’ Angelo, I swear to God _if I caught you skipping class for the stupid excuse of a sandwich_ ,” Will murmured vehemently, racking a frustrated hand through his wet hair as he punctured another message into his phone, squinting his eyes and willing for Nico to reply back or Will was going to _reign pure and utter hell on him tomorrow Nico I swear to fuck answer your phone right now or I’m going to lose my shit_ —

 _Ding_. One message received. Will’s shoulder’s sagged with relief.

Barely.

“ _Nico_ , where _are_ you – don’t you know that classes just _ended_? Don’t you know how _worried_ I was? Why did you take so long to buy a _sandwich_? Oh _God_ , Nico, if your dad finds out about this – ugh, never mind that. But please tell me you skipped class for a valid reason, less I die from a heartattac—”

“ _Will_.” Nico’s voice was cold and bland. Like ice; like a _blade_. It pierced through the air, and managed to successfully shut Will up from his ineligible rambling. “ _Calm down. I can’t understand you over the wind_.” Will blinked and creased his eyebrows. What? _Wind_?

Oh. _Oh_ hell _no_.

Was Nico _outside_ the school?!

“Nico, did you actually _leave school early_?!” Will exclaimed loudly, causing a few onlookers to give him weird looks in the hallway. “ _Shit_ Neeks! Your dad won’t just be pissed, he’d be _royally_ pissed once he finds out what you’ve been up to and oh _God_ dude, what’s going to happen once he comes back from—”

“Will. _Calm. The. Fuck_. Down,” Nico hissed into the receiver, venom lacing his every word. Will, again, was shocked into silence – Nico _never_ said anything to him with such intensity. “Jesus, _if you weren’t my best friend, I would have mistaken you for my mom_ ,” Nico breathed out, and Will could just barely hear the sound of somebody chattering in the background. Possibly a friend. Or a stranger.

But at this point, Will didn’t have a clue. Didn’t _know_. His brain was just too muddled to understand and process anything or any _one_ right now.

Will was struck with a sudden realization. “Wait, did you just leave school Nico?” On the other line, Nico snorted.

“ _Yeah. I did_.” Will’s face went lax with embarrassment and he slightly crouched down to bury his face in his hands. God. He was _so_ lame. “ _Didn’t Leo tell you yesterday that I started leaving earlier than Hazel about a week ago?_ ”

Will made a low noise in his throat that suspiciously sounded similar to a dying mammal. “Yes.” Then he shouldered himself. “But that doesn’t explain why you skipped two periods of classes today! I mean, Nico, come _on_ , a _sandwich_? Really?” Nico laughed keenly from the other line.

“ _It worked though, didn’t it?_ ” Will whined loudly at that. “ _Alright, alright_. Sheesh. . . . _I was with the guidance counsellor. She pulled me out of class to talk about my dad and grades and stuff_.” At that, Will breathed out and closed his eyes. Huh. So that was it. A guidance counsellor meeting.

To talk about his school records and his dad.

But that small fact somehow didn’t quench the swirling pit of paranoia and concern that continually tried to pursue and break free of his stomach and out into the open where Nico could visibly see it. But that was probably just wishful thinking on Will’s part. He already showed Nico his paranoia and concern less than three seconds ago, after all.

Stupid, _stupid_.

Stupid gut feeling.

“ _Well . . . I gotta go, Will_ ,” was what Nico said though, instead of his usual snide and heavy remarks.

In fact, Nico sounded . . . sounded  _tired_ somehow. More tired than usual. (His stupid gut feeling told him so.)

Like something had happened between the short time span of the classes he had missed and the worse part of the burdened had just taken its toll on him right now.

Nico sounded resigned. _Defeated_.

And Will just couldn’t pin-point _why_! “Umm, o- _kay_ , Neeks . . . so you’re not stopping by my house later? Hazel said she wasn’t because she’s busy.”

“ _Hazel . . . Hazel’s not coming home today?_ ” Nico sounded genuinely surprised, and Will suppressed the urge to point out that Nico was the one who decided to go home earlier than his younger sister. Hazel was flighty, and she would _never_ stay in one place for too long. But he couldn’t point _that_ out to Nico, for some reason. His best friend . . . sounded _sad_ about it somehow. What the hell? “ _Ah . . . so she won’t be home . . . and I thought . . ._ ” The hallways were starting to empty, and Will noticed that only seven students, plus him, were the only ones left. Unnerved at the decrease of students in the hallway, Will started for his locker, fixing and shoving everything he needed for the day into his bag.

 _“It doesn’t matter now, I guess. I’ll just, it’s . . . I’ll talk to you later Will so just_.” Silence. “ _Just . . . uhh, yeah. See you later_.”

Will, frankly, was _surprised_. Now, wait, Nico couldn’t possibly—hold on— “Nico _wait_ , I’m not _done_ talking yet I still have to ask you something—!” Beep. Beep. And just like that, so abruptly, Nico had ended the phone call.

And Will just stared at his phone in complete shock.

But not enough to dispel the contemplation and uneasiness he felt stirring inside him.

It was official. It was confirmed; bloody hell, it was even _itemized_ , proving his previously baseless theory otherwise. And the mere facts of it were like finely printed words rolling in front of Will’s face, like a typo in a five thousand worded essay. Nico was _hiding_ something from him.

It was plain and clear as day, and Will felt only righteously angry that Nico, after all this time, after _everything_ , chose to leave Will out a thickly-veiled secret he had obviously been cultivating for a long, _long_ time now.

And Will felt that his anger was justified, if not only _rightly_ directed.

To think that Nico would even burden himself with a fucking _secret_.

He breathed in closing his eyes, before letting out a very long, and a much drained exhale. _No_. He should – he _would_ calm down, Will corrected. Even if Nico was keeping a secret from him, he’d tell Will in due-time, when he was ready, when he felt that he wasn’t tip-toeing around the issue anymore. Nico wasn’t a self-absorbed asshole, and he would tell Will about it, because he knew Will, and he _knows_ that he can’t keep holding everything back from Will forever.

The problem was how long it would take before Nico said _anything_.

Will clenched his fists. _Calm down_ , he thought. Anger doesn’t solve or fix the issue, no matter how justified it was.

The best Will could do, for now, is gather as much of his wit and bearings as possible, and confront Nico about it at a later date – at a _sooner_ date. Secrets combined with the tight-lipped boy known as Nico di Angelo was never a good _or_ easy thing. Nico lied like he _breathed_.

But that was before he met Will, and that was before Will made it his business of _knowing_.

But for now, Will resolved as he sauntered angrily down the hallways, he would wait. He would wait, before confronting. Nico, for all his gothic and edgy glory, was like a skittish animal: vulnerable when exposed, and scared when proven wrong.  Will had to weave through everything Nico was determined to hide from him carefully, less he scared his best friend away.

He couldn’t bear that. Not after last time. Not after . . .

Will gulped. _No_. Bad, _bad_ memories needed to _stay_ where they belonged in his head; at the very, _very_ back of his memory bank, where they were left to rot, and eventually ( _hopefully_ ), with time, remain forgotten.

And besides, time was all he was (all he _could_ ) giving Nico. He wasn’t going to let his best friend hurl himself into . . . into a spiraling colliery of madness and misery.

Not after last time.

Will firmly hunched his shoulders forward, and went home with anger rousing in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Nico was lost.

Well, he thought drily to himself, in retrospect, anything at this point, especially . . . this _thing_ that he was feeling—it shouldn’t have been _that_ big of a deal for him, right?

 _Right_?

 He huddled his legs closer to his chest and vainly attempted to blend in deeper with the oak tree behind him. It was cold, the vicinity was small, and there was nobody around. Nico . . . he could deal with that. Yeah. That would give him some time to breath, and think.

After everything he heard today . . . he could give himself _this_ , at least. Quiet, safe. Nico could give himself that. He could give himself time.

Because honestly, he felt as if that was the only thing left for him. Time to think. Time to do shit. Time, in general.

What else did Nico have left, anyway, if not time?

 _You know, Nico, you don’t really have much time left_. Nico clenched his fist and buried his head into his knees.

 _What did_ Reyna _know anyway?_ he thought bitterly. What a load of bull, everything _Reyna_ said – everything _Reyna_ tried to say.

Reyna. Reyna. _Reyna_.

How fucking _dare_ she!

Nico threw a rock at a nearby bird perched on a rock. It squabbled at him before flying away.

To hell with her _fucking_ nonsense! What could Reyna possibly know about _him_ anyway? They weren’t friend. In fact, after _today_ , after what she told him, they were anything _but_ friends. Did that girl think she was doing this out of the goodness in her heart? Did she fucking think Nico’s life was just a deck of cards—a _joke_? Did she think that Nico was just going to  . . . nod along to everything she said like it was cupcakes and rainbows? Like it made _sense_?

He threw another pebble. The bugs scurried away.

What irritated Nico more was how fucking understanding she _displayed_ herself to be—like she just. _Knew_. Like she _understood_ , and she wasn’t _judging_ him. Nico had wanted nothing more than to peck Reyna’s soft eyes out with a _fork_.

He flung a pebble at a nearby rock, scowling. He tried to imagine it as Reyna’s face.

 _Reyna_ , for all her studious and composed persona, proved herself to be as unreliable as the sources he found on the internet. But at least the motherfucking _internet_ had an actual scientific basis, a foundation that pursued logic and theories, unlike _Reyna—_ calm, he used to think, firm, logical Reyna who pulled him out of class so she could spout a ridiculous theory about Nico's serious chest pains.

But if he took Reyna at face value, Nico guessed that was all she was about: just a bunch of groundless theories made to fuck with your brain.

He skipped two classes to meet her, worried the hell out of Will, and _missed_ the rare chance of going home with Hazel, just so she could tell him about a _stupid_ disease? 

And _fictional_ at that. Oh boy, Nico’s blood pressure was skyrocketing through the _roof_ at the amount of rocks he was throwing everywhere.

His dad was going to lose his _shit_ once he finds out what Nico did. Will was right. His dad won’t just be pissed, but he would be _royally_ pissed.

And it would all be Reyna’s fault.

He remembered how desperate he was yesterday, and scrapped the last thought clean. Well, not completely Reyna’s fault then, if he just ignored her text message like any _other_ rational person. But that doesn’t mean Reyna wasn’t to blame. She _was_. If Nico’s dad ended up grounding him for a week, or shoved an hour long lecture in his face of how, “ _education is important and you should never skip a single class or else I’m going to disown you_ ” Nico was suing her.

Or, just, cursing her out in messenger. That way, they’d both be fair. Reyna had one of the foulest mouths on earth anyway – like _holy shit_ ; it’d make Nico look like a toddler in comparison.

 _Oh_ , and the number of times she carelessly insulted Will during their conversation! ‘ _What the hell do you see in him anyway?_ ’ ‘ _Do you really think he’s worth anything at all?_ ’ ‘ _You know being around him won’t do you any good from now on, right?_ ’ Nico felt his nails puncture holes into his palm in anger.

Who the _fuck_ did Reyna think she was? That pompous fucking jerk thought she knew better than Nico, thought she understood him, even suggested that getting rid of Will was the _safest_ and most _logical_ option for him. That ridding his life of Will – his annoying best friend and mi amigo in _everything_ – was going to lessen the pain, that it was going to make him happy; she had the fucking _gall_ to say that she knew best, that she knows what he was going through, that she _understands_.

Christ, even _Leo_ possessed more humility than Reyna did, and _that_ was saying something. She had the biggest ‘ _I know best, so listen to me please_ ’ complex the size of Mt. Fuji Nico has _ever_ seen. He hated her for that.

And, most of all, Nico hated _himself_ – that a small, small, _miniscule_ part of him had believed the utter _bullshit_ that Reyna had spouted. That a part of him _knew_ , and _understood_ , and _believed_ for one second, every _shit_ Reyna had said, and that was enough for Nico to send himself teetering over the edge of _violence_.

But he couldn’t do that; not to himself, not to _anyone_ – he _wouldn’t_. Because what would his mom think of him? What would _Hazel_ think of him?

What would _Will_ think of him?

Nico’s breath caught in his throat.

What _would_ Will think of him? What would he make of Reyna, of their conversation? Nico had hung up so quickly on Will that he wouldn’t be surprised if his best friend _knew_ something was up. That he could just . . . _tell_ that Nico was hiding something. He was Will, after all: stubborn, persistent Will. The Will who won’t stop bothering him until Nico told him what was wrong.

Nico repressed his head deeper, deeper, and _deeper_ into his knees, to the point that he was practically _burying_ himself into the dirt, and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill. He was _not_ going to cry over this. He was way stronger than that, he _proved_ he was stronger than this, and he wouldn’t be bullied into submission, into _defeat_.

Nico’s feelings stirred, and his thundering heart whispered otherwise.

He hiccupped. Stupid, _stupid_ adrenaline. Stupid fucking _feelings._ Stupid cold.

Stupid, _stupid_ Will, Nico thought angrily, gulping loudly. This was _his_ fault. It was his fault that Nico was reduced into a prone and sobbing mess onto the grassy floor. It was Will’s fucking fault that Nico was confused, and heartbroken, and _scared_.

But _scared_  somehow sounded wrong. It seemed less intense, less true, more subdued. _Terrified_ , his mind supplied helpfully, fit the criteria better.

But what was Nico _terrified_ of? He was the edgy, cold, and cynical teenager of the group, of the school; he was the butt of the gossip in school, the butt of people’s judgmental stare, the butt of his _dad’s_ judgmental stare.

So, in all seriousness, what could _Nico_ , in all his seventeen years of living, of _suffering_ , possibly be _scared_ of anymore?

The answer was simple, and so plain; so, _so_ fucking obvious that he clenched his eyes and desperately willed his shameful tears and feelings to _go away_.

 _Nico was afraid of losing Will_.

He cried silently. Nico couldn’t help it. And it wasn’t _just_ Will either, he was afraid, terrified of losing them _all_ : Hazel, his mom, his friends he had come to tolerate – even his _dog_.

But . . . but _Will_ most especially. The mere thought of it shocked – _terrified_ Nico. The fact that Will had managed to become such an important figure in Nico’s life in such a short amount of time was almost _laughable_. _Will_ , who was there two years ago to offer him the support that Hazel and his mom were too reluctant to offer, _Will_ , who was annoying and supportive and sarcastic, who was there for Nico when he needed him most, even though he didn’t – hadn’t wanted to _say_ anything.

Happy, smiley-faced _Will_ who was concerned for everything and everyone and wouldn’t hurt a fly even if he was forced to, who wouldn’t hurt _Nico_ even if he was forced to, who managed to worm his way into Nico’s weak and stilted heart.

The heart, Nico realized with a start, that he had assumed stopped loving _anyone_ after losing Bianca and his mother.

Just thinking of his deceased relative, his deceased _family_ – _loved ones_ , made Nico want to burst out into tears. It brought out ugly feelings of the past – the hurt, pain, betrayal, and anger, anger, anger, _anger_ –suppressed emotions that Nico had tried _so_ hard to ignore, had forgotten completely over the years, were pouring out of him in a horribly huge tidal wave.

“ _Don’t stop, keep moving_ ,” his _sorella_ had told him, one time, _once_ , so long ago, when they were out exploring in the family yard, when Nico had tripped on a tree stump and proceeded to howl loudly like a newborn babe. “ _Come on, come on,_ mamma _is waiting for us,”_ she had said impatiently, bending down on one knee. _“Don’t let such a small and minor injury stop us from moving,_ ” she chided, carrying a tiny, sniffling Nico on her back and jostling him good-naturedly.

“ _Because mamma is waiting?_ ” tiny Nico replied back; all tears and pouty lips. Bianca had smiled.

“ _Yeah. Because_ Papà _and_ Mamma _are waiting_ ,” she cooed, jostling him again, earning her a high-pitched giggle from her little brother. “ _Come on. Don’t stop, keep moving. Mamma made lemonades_.” Both siblings had carefully made their way back to the family porch, where Nico’s mamma gently scolding him for being so careless, before bandaging up his wounds.

 _‘Don’t stop, keep moving_ ,’ was one of the many phrases Bianca had told him when he was seven. ‘ _Let’s watch ants, and go exploring_ ’ _‘If all bears are just black, brown, or white, why are panda bears both black and white? Does that mean they’re a hybrid?_ ’

‘ _You’ve got raspberry jam all over your nose Nico!_ ’ was what she said on a family outing when Nico had been too quick to swallow his sandwich, and his sister just gaped at him for a moment before tumbling down the ground in laughter the next.

‘ _Nico don’t climb that tree, it’s dangerous!_ ’ was the next as she shouted, worry evident and clear as dripping water in her voice, as her eyes trained itself on Nico’s small body, which was climbing higher and higher up the broad oak tree in their garden, and Nico just poked his tongue at her.

‘ _Nico, mamma told me to make you take your medication, it’s not good that you only drank water!_ ’

‘ _Nico let’s go fishing with mamma this weekend!_ ’

 ‘ _Nico, why are you so bad at math?_ ’

‘ _Nico, everything is going to be fine_ . . .’

‘ _Nico . . . stop worrying so much_ . . .’

‘ _I love you . . . Nico_ . . .’

“Nico.” Nico eyes shot open and he looked up, terrified, and resisted the urge to scream.

But, there was nobody there.

Confused, he whirled his head left and right, and anxiously looked around the park, going so far as to standing up and scanning the perimeter. He could have sworn . . .

“I’m over here, di Angelo.” Feeling his insides stir with cold vertigo, Nico jumped around and saw Reyna, in all her white blouse and black khakis glory, staring him down, her brown, braided hair bobbed along with her head as she scanned Nico up and down, frowning at what she saw.

Nico tried to decipher what she could possibly be seeing in him, and with his already low self-esteem and sharp analysis of the situation, it wasn’t that hard: Nico, with his hair tousled and his clothes crumpled and ruined and filled with dirt, looking like a homeless hobo; Nico, with his blood-shot eyes and tear-stained cheek, looking like a heartbroken widow.

But his shame of being caught crying quickly morphed into hot, _hot_ anger once the shock subsided and he realized just _who_ was analyzing and staring him down like a dog in a petting zoo.

“Leave me the _fuck_ alone, Reyna,” he snarled, and moved to walk away, picking up his jacket from the dirty ground. “I’ve got _nothing_ to say to you.”

“Oh, are you really sure about that, Nico?” Reyna replied drily, and Nico turned his head around to glare at her. “From what I observed, you have _quite_ the number of things you want to tell me.”

“Fuck. _Off_ ,” Nico bit back, bristling with anger. “Even if I want to say any _thing_ to you, the only coherent words that would come out of my mouth would be in the form of an insult because you’re such a self-absorbed _asshole_.” Reyna’s eyes shone with clear rage. _Fine_. Let her be angry. Nico sure as _hell_ didn’t give a _fuck_. The pompous jerk could go drown in the ocean for all Nico cared, and he would probably _piss_ all over her corpse afterwards.

“You know, if you at least _tried_ to be civil with me, you wouldn’t even be in the situation you’re _in_ right now,” Reyna snarled back, baring her teeth at him and untangling her crossed arms. “I’m trying to talk to you about this, but you’re being so goddamn hard- _headed_ about it that talking to you is already _wasting_ my breath.” Fucking. _Jerk_.

Nico rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to leap across the field and _throttle_ her. “Yeah. _Sure_. Blame the guy who doesn’t understand anything. That sure as hell seems fair.” Nico rolled his sleeves up and slung his tear-stained jacket over his shoulders. He looked over to Reyna and _glared_ at her. “Look, Reyna, I don’t give a _fuck_ about you, _or_ your theories – _and_ I don’t give a _fuck_ at whatever insult you’re planning on spouting at me right now,” he added coldly, seeing Reyna’s mouth opening for another insult related to Nico’s intellectuality.

He narrowed his eyes. Sharply. “What I _do_ give a fuck about, however, is how you had insulted my best friend, Will, so carelessly.” Nico clenched his fists. “Insulting _me_ is one thing; insulting _Will_ , on the other hand, is a different topic all together.” His glare hardened and his nails dug _deep_. “One I would prefer that you do _not_ further indulge in.”

He squared his shoulders at Reyna’s silence, frowning deeply, before whirling around and trooping forward, to somewhere far, _far_ away.

Away from here.

Away from _Reyna_.

“I’m sorry . . .” Nico spun around and blinked. Twice. _Hard_.

“. . . What?” he spluttered, all previous traces of anger subsiding a bit to make way for a rouse of confusion.

Reyna looked away; all withdrawn and bashful. It was as if she was unused to apologizing (which Nico suspected she was, since she was so damn _full_ of herself) “I’m . . .  _sorry_ I insulted you. _And_ your Will.” She shifted nervously, her red stilettos mixing terribly with the grass and dirt of the earth. She looked down and frowned slightly, shaking her heels. “I mean, I went too far and hurt your feelings, and that was _never_ my intention. I just . . . don’t know how to . . . you know, talk about . . . about this.” She gestured vaguely.

Nico blinked. “Umm . . . okay. That’s . . . actually uncalled for but, uhh, okay.” Wow. Weird. And here Nico was a few seconds ago determined to not talk or _look_ at Reyna for the rest of his teenage soon adult life.  

Reyna smiled thinly at him. “And you’re right. It was probably just a theory on my behalf. I apologize for yelling at you.”

“Okay . . .”

“But just because it’s a theory, doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Oh.” The anger was back again on full force.

“Wait, please understand, Nico.” Somehow, while Nico was busy dazing off, Reyna had emerged out of nowhere, invade into his personal space and grasped his arm. He jerked back, surprised, and Reyna smiled apologetically. Okay. Now _that_ was weird. She looked like she actually cared there for a second. “By no means do I mean you any harm. I just want to help.” Oh. Fuck. She was using that tone again. Like she _understood_. Like she’s been through this.

Like she could actually _help Nico_.

Again, his anger re-emerged and he jerked away from Reyna’s long fingers. “Thanks for the offer, Reyna, but you literally told me the same thing less than an hour ago.” He glared at her again. “I’m not going to fall for that same bullying tactics and the same _bullshit.”_

Reyna stared at him and Nico flinched. She used the same intense stare she gave him in the cafeteria almost two days ago; cold and calculating. “So you just won’t stop and _listen_ to me until I point out the obvious, huh?” Nico, confused, blinked thrice, eyes squinting. Where was Reyna going with this?

Reyna looked at him again, and frowned. “Listen _carefully_ , Nico, it’ll only be a few days until you start _experiencing_ the symptoms for _yourself—”_ Nico stiffened. “—so let me clear this fact for you, in one sentence.” She inhaled.

Fuck. Nico needed to leave. He needed to _go_. If he stayed, Reyna was going to punch him through with another universally shocking fact, she was going to leave another gaping hole in Nico’s chest, and Nico wouldn’t be able to stop _thinking about it because it would hurt too much and leave him in a lot of_ pain.

But his legs won’t . . . they won’t move. _Why won’t they fucking move?_

And her next words made Nico halt and look up at Reyna in horror. What she said was like a metaphorical punch from the cosmos. It sent Nico’s whole world tumbling down like wooden _Jenga_ blocks.

“ _Nico di Angelo_ , you’re _infatuated_ with your best friend _Will Solace_.”      


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sauntered near the candy store, and turned. “Nico’s hurt. Time and weather be damned. My best friend is hurt, and nothing will stop me from getting him back home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school sucks. good thing it's over eh.
> 
> update is irregular because a few things happened: keyboard broke, usb got stolen, and some of my files got deleted. but anyway, have some solangelo angst

* * *

 Will was still seething in anger by the time he got home.  

He was pissed at the weather when he got half wet arriving down the faded yellow fence that connected to his house. He was pissed when he threw his soggy bag to the ground, and tossed his shoes to the side. And he was _still_ pissed when he got up to his room, and saw the messy state that it was in that _he_ had originally instigated.

He was so pissed that he opened the window, and shouted the weather to go _fuck_ itself; the weather would then reply with a silent whiplash of water in his face, the sound of the wind its only form of a laughter to Will’s plight.

. . . Okay, _no_ , no, that was actually a lie (a fantasy, honestly), but Will could dream, right?

 _Right_?

He placed a hand to his face, and dragged it down from there, groaning loudly. No. _Of course_ not. He was overreacting. _Is_ overreacting. He probably worried his mom too, since he just left his wet stuff downstairs. It’ll take her about two minutes before she started knocking and asking Will (read: _interrogating_ ) about what the hell was getting him so worked up at two P.M in the afternoon.

Which Will didn’t want to happen. He didn’t know how Kayla managed to evade their mom’s stern looks of disappointment so easily for so long, but Will was pretty sure he might just break something expensive if his mom gave him the _look_.

Or dissolve into massive tears. He didn’t know. Will favored the former idea because it made him sound less of a mama’s boy.

He angrily marched towards his bed and kicked it out of frustration—the bed vibrated and staggered violently, smacking against the wall, but so did Will’s leg; he jumped back, startled, and cradled the injured limb, scowling vindictively down at the floor. His left foot was numb from the impact, and he was pretty sure he shattered his pinky.

 _Great_. Barely ten seconds have passed since he got home, and he was already sustaining a minor self-inflicted injury. If this goes on, Will wouldn’t be surprised if his parents filed a restraining order against him.   

“Will, honey, is there something wrong? You left your bag downstairs.” _Speaking of the devil._

Will trudged towards his door and flung it open, grimacing. His mom looked him over with an unimpressed look and placed her left hand on her hip, the other swinging Will’s wet schoolbag, the water dribbling down the floor. “Care to explain to me why I found your wet bag idly lying near the staircase, Will?” his mom inquired, eyebrows raised in question.

Wil laughed nervously.  “I forgot to bring it with me. Sorry, mom.” He took the dripping bag from her and chucked it to the side, its content spilling everywhere on the floor. His mom furrowed her brows and looked up at Will in exasperation. “Oh, yeah . . . I forgot to close the zipper, too . . .”

“Did you also forget to bring an umbrella with you?” his mom questioned drily, giving his wet torso a quick pointed once-over, much to his embarrassment.

He walked over to his bag and unceremoniously shoved his books back inside, sighing lowly under his breath. “I didn’t know it was going to rain mom.” He gently casted his bag to the side while wrapping it up with towels and discarded week-old  newspaper that his dad probably tossed into his room hoping he’d read it. “I probably wouldn’t have brought it anyway, since dad hid it . . .”

“You should have just asked your father then. He would’ve told you where it was if you did.” Will was suddenly surprised to find himself bundled up in frothy towels, and he yelped, looking up accusingly to see his mom grinning down at him,  obviously enjoying musing and ruffling Will’s hair. “Mom, stop it! I can do it myself!” He reached his arm out for the towel but his mom wrapped it around his head in a fierce headlock, and both mother and son duo fell down the ground, squealing.

“Oh no you don’t you cheeky imp!” his mother teased, hugging his chest. “I know for a fact that you’re just going to trick me into thinking you took a bath!”

“But I really was going to take a bath and— _oh my God_ , mom let me go you’re _suffocating_ me!” But Will was laughing, genuinely amused instead of annoyed. The way his mom attempted to give him raspberries was just humiliating though, so he eventually towered over her and flung the previously dry towels into her limp arms, eyes crinkling when her nose wrinkled up in obvious disgust. “Can’t handle the smell, mom?”

“Oh please, William. Stop pretending you know any better.” She weighted both towels in her arms before gently placing them into the laundry basket near Will’s door. “Take a bath, and then come downstairs for lunch. Kayla will be home in about a few minutes.” She gave him a purposeful stare. “And I expect you to be done by then, understood?”

Will rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly. “Yes, ma’am.” His mother scoffed before leaving, telling him to clean his room on her way down the stairs.

“I know!” he shouted back, but his mother was already somewhere in the kitchen, since all that met him was silence. Will ended up hanging by his doorway for a few seconds, before sighing and closing the door again.

He stood by the doorway for a second before walking back to his bed, and adjusting it back to its proper position, cursing tightly under his breath when his numb foot managed to get caught under the rough mat of his carpeted floor.

 His window rattled, which nearly startled him, and he strolled over to slam the curtain together, firmly clenching the cloth beneath his fingers as he bent his head down and started shaking. His knees buckled, and a sudden cold vertigo rushed over Will’s form. He clenched his eyes, biting into his bottom lip.

Had Will been a lesser man, he would’ve started bawling his eyes out, or worse.

Because it just . . . it just wasn’t _fair_. The way Nico left him out of things.

And Will felt incredibly pathetic that he had let it bother him so much. That he was taking his anger out on everything, instead of thinking things through. He injured himself, and even worried his mom in the growing process of his raging tantrum. He ought to ask Frank how he dealt with his anger issues.

He walked back to his bed and slid down against the hard surface, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes, laughing emptily to himself. _God_ , he thought, I’m so pathetic.

If it wasn’t for the sudden jolt of vibration his phone had sent up his ass, Will would’ve probably sat there all day (or at least, until his mom barged into his room and demanded he take an hour long bath), moping and feeling sorry for himself. He fumbled for it, his fingers flying over the screen nervously, not expecting it, since it was so uncalled for. Who would call him in the middle of the day, after school? Almost nobody texted him at this time of day, since they knew what he did during the afternoon.

Most of all, it was from an unsolicited number, anonymous in the way the confusing digits bleared angrily back at him. What would a stranger possibly want with him, a high school kid? Was it a prank call? “Hello?” Will answered uncertainly, testing the words out, before backing that up with another, “Who is this, and how did you get my number?”

“Is this . . . Will Solace?” A female voice. He nodded unsurely, answering with a timid ‘yes’, eyebrows scrutinizing.

And from there, the woman just _snapped_. “Oh God, _fuck_ , I’ve messed up badly. _Badly_. I don’t know what to do and he just fucking _run_ , that _shit_ and now I’m caught up in this mess and oh _fuck me_ —”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but _please_ calm down.” Will winced, shaking almost. God almighty, this woman could _talk_. “Can you try telling me your name first, please? I can’t help you if I don’t know who you are. No offence.” Even as he said this, he somewhat felt that the person on the other side of the phone might be a senior that attended his school—seniors were scary, in that regard. Besides, her voice sounded vaguely familiar . . .

“Oh yeah, _right_. Uh, none taken. Sorry, sorry. It’s Reyna; Percy’s friend – but that’s not important right now.” Her voice had an underlying accent to it, maybe somewhat Spanish, but her speech was cold and firm. She talked like a business person when she wasn’t rambling. “Look, Will, you’re the _last_ person on earth I should be calling right now, but _fuck_ if I’m not desperate.” She sounded worried, which in turn, worried Will.

“Okay Reyna . . . but, uhh, what do you need me to help you with?” he asked, still uncertain and heavily debating if he should just hang up on her. But even if he decided to, he knew he couldn’t just ignore her. That would be a pretty dick move. And Will wasn’t so down in the low* as to ignore a frantic woman that needed help. “If it’s something about school, I don’t think I’d be able to do mu—”

“That’s not _it_ you idiot,” she snapped, but was immediately remorseful afterwards. “— _shit_ , sorry I didn’t mean to suddenly—” A frustrated sigh. “It’s been a stressful morning, and a lot of shit happened today. I’m sorry I took that out on you.”

“Ah, no, it’s really okay.” Will paused, contemplating. Reyna seemed nice enough – and she apologized a _lot_ , which was _something_. “Umm, and if you don’t mind me asking, you mentioned a boy before – does he have anything to do with why you’re in such a frenzy right now?” She paused for five straight heartbeats, and Will’s nerves shot through, but then she _laughed_ – loud, dry, and empty.

“Kind of ironic that you brought that up actually. Sorry. I just had to get that out of my system. As things currently stand, even the stupidest shit makes me want to laugh.” _This_ admission made Will nervous. Was Reyna’s problem so significant that even the smallest indication of anything forced her to lose her temper? Will sure as heck didn’t want to be on the end of that, if ever. “Yes, Solace, this is actually about that.”

“Oh. Okay.” Which was an all the more reason for Will to be nervous. What the hell? Did one of his friends get in trouble again? What kind of prank would merit a senior to be this involved with them?

Worst case scenario would be if one of them got _arrested_. Will wasn’t even _legal_ , not by a long shot. How the fuck would he be able to bail them out then? _Jesus_ , he hoped it wasn’t Leo. God only knows how many times that stupid bloke nearly got arrested in a street alley fight (for all the _dumbest_ reasons imaginable, but this wasn’t about that – _hopefully_ ).

“Good, Will. It’s good you’re so calm. I like that. I need that.” A few rustling as it sounded like Reyna was trying and struggling to stand up. “Okay, okay, we’re good now – okay, _Will_ , listen to me carefully okay? I’m somewhere downtown, near the convenient store. You know that tiny candy shop near the—” Will quipped an answer. “—yeah. _There_. I have someone with me right now, and he . . . he’s not in a good shape. I’m trying to contact an ambulance, but this _fucking weather_.” She cursed colorfully.

Will barely had time to answer back before Reyna interrupted him, “Okay, well _anyway_ , useless people, useless phone, what else is new? But _fuck_ it I’m _desperate_ ; so can you come downtown in the place I just mentioned? I need your help to carry this dumbasses body in a cab. He’s fucking wet, and shivering, and unconscious, and _goddamn_ he looks dead, Will, and it’s _terrifying_.”

“. . . What’s his name? Do I . . . know him?” Because it was unnerving how much Reyna ragged on about the boy without mentioning his identity, as if she expected Will to already _know_ it – which he did not, by the way, because Will was clueless and there were about a dozen _he’s_ and _dumbasses_ and _little shits_ in his school. It was kind of hard to decide.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ m—wait no, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. Right. My temper. I need to stay calm.” Will’s faced colored as Reyna clicked her tongue.

“It’s _fine_. It’s not your fault.”

“Okay.” Will breathed and inhaled hard. “So, who is—”

“It’s _Nico_ , Will.” At this, he shot up from his bed, eyes widening and heart hammering and throbbing hard in his chest.

“It’s . . . Nico, and he’s . . . he’s bleeding. He’s bleeding badly and _God_ , I’m not good with people, but he needs help and – _Will are you listening_ —” Truth be told, his phone was still on, but Will was out and shot like an arrow through his doorstep, _gone_ , his jacket and phone left discarded and forgotten in his bedroom.

* * *

Nico could react to this situation in two very, _very_ tapered ways.

He could a.)  Deny Reyna’s claim in a calm, collected, and profoundly professional way; all the while withholding his tears and bouts of embarrassment from bursting forth and showing itself to his ridiculously calculative enemy or b.) Immediately get the _fuck_ away from the deranged, fucking loony, report her to the goddamn authorities for harassing him and simply move on from all the ridiculous shit that happened today and _get on_ with his life.

But _fuck_ no, Nico di motherfucking Angelo was anything in this situation _but_.

 _Nope_. Nico’s first thought when he gathered his bearing was: _I want to fucking_ kill _you and dump your body in a pisshole._

He couldn’t bring himself to reel back his leaking murderous intent, to somehow reign in his fucking _anger_ , and it was probably rolling off of him in thick, lashing waves because Reyna’s smile faltered and her heels violently champed back, all the while still _holding Nico’s sleeves_ as if she still had the right to (which she actually never did. _Ever_ ).

No. She _didn’t_. That was a fucking _luxury_ Reyna could never hope to achieve.

He jerked back shoulders and tore her arm away from him like it was infected, snarling at her for good measures to make sure she kept her distance.

She did, obviously, since Nico was at the ends of his patience and he never wanted to deal with Reyna ever _again_ for the rest of his life, but, because she _was_ Reyna and taller than Nico by three _inches_ , she had the audacity to tilt her chin to the side and quirk an unamused eyebrow. Needless to say, her actions fueled Nico’s anger to a nearly boiling temperature of both hot and cold.

_You goddamn _asshole_ kept repeating in his mind like a broken tape recorder._

 

“Stay away from me, and never talk to me again,” Nico whispered through gritted and clenched teeth. Reyna stared at him, unwavering, and Nico scornfully turned his head away. “Just. _Stop_ , Reyna. Okay? Just. Fucking. _Stop_.  It’s not funny anymore! . . .” He couldn’t help the way his shoulders wilted back in resignation and defeat, a trait he was probably abusing way too much ever since he met Will.

 _Will_ , was the next thought that rudely interrupted his angered musing, and he beat and _smacked_ down that thought with a metal bat to the darkest, _deepest_ parts of his mind, where he can ponder more on them later instead of during a heated confrontation with Reyna.

And besides, with how _Reyna_ carried herself and scanned Nico over like a rat specimen, she could probably read his thoughts as easily as if it were a handed out pamphlet: she proved so earlier and Nico was _not_ risking anything that would give her that sense of triumph and satisfaction.

Because thinking about his best friend, Will, in this weak state would be him admitting his imminent defeat, and Nico was _not_ so far gone that the small amount of self-worth that he still had intact was going to be handed to Reyna in a ham-fisted knot of red ribbons.

And _God_ did Nico feel like crying all over again with how pressured he felt. To simply break down and sobbing until his eyes stung and his lung burned. He wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers of his bed, and _stay_ there until he figured out what even was normality in his life anymore, and how every event that occurred in the past week led up to this stupid conversation with his obnoxious and arrogant upperclassman.

Who was still standing there in front of him, _smugly_ might Nico add, as if she was waiting for Nico to do something.

Like she was expecting a _reaction_ out of him.

It was the same stupid and pointed look his _dad_ would give him whenever he bothered to come home.

Nico’s eyes suddenly throbbed and he could feel his lungs starting to _burn_ for _real_. He grabbed his chest, and gasped. Nico winced. His lungs clenched and tightened, pumping too much air upward into his windpipe, suffocating him.

And it fucking _hurt_.

Without another word, he sharpened his shoulders, and walked down the trudged and grassy path, throwing his hoodie over his head when he noticed how over casted and blurred the sky was, desperately trying to lose Reyna in the darkening atmosphere, who was catching up to him surprisingly well for a woman in a sleeveless blouse and ten inches high-heeled stilettos, trying to call him back.

Which only fueled for Nico to run faster, faster, _faster_. Away from _here_ , from _Reyna_ , from his fears and insecurities.

He turned around a corner, and ran like his life depended on it, his fear of being caught by Reyna and the adrenaline of his recent meltdown urging his legs to surpass its limitations.

His lungs _hurt_ , and Nico’s eyes _stung_ with obscured tears. His clothes were probably wet too, but he barely noticed it, not when his face was wet and he was sweating so much. He couldn’t feel his legs, or his feet, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to walk normally tomorrow – which would worry his mom and Hazel, and probably Will, if he wasn’t still mad at Nico by then.

 _Fuck_ , Nico whimpered as his foot caught in a ragged pavement, he wanted to see Will so, so _badly_. He wanted to wrap his arms around his best friend, and cry hard into his torso until his arms and lungs gave out and he fell asleep against him, snot and drool coating his friend’s t-shirt like a dissected bacteria. He wanted to curl up in his bed and text Will until three A.M – He wanted to go back to how his life used to be: uneventful and _normal_. He didn’t want Reyna’s stupid facts and ideologies filling up his head with unwelcoming thoughts.

 _You’re infatuated with your best friend, Will_ _Solace_ , was the thing that kept fucking Nico up and constantly made him stumble headfirst into cemented, wet floors. It was the one thing that made Nico not _want_ to see Will – if only he didn’t see Nico in such an undignified state: with such messed up, dirty hair, puffed up eyes, wet clothes, and broken-hearted eyes. He wouldn’t even be surprised if Will’s mom mistaken him for a hobo.

Nico stumbled along in a surprisingly overcrowded pedestrian line, and bumped into someone. He fumbled for an apology, before tumbling through the crowd like a lost sailor in a rampaging storm.

 _Will. Will. Will._ Nico was so mad and _ashamed_ of himself for letting the thought of his best friend overrule his logic and complete control over situation, but it was as if Nico couldn’t control his thoughts _at all_. His feelings were out of control, like a damaged dam collapsing. The moment he thought of Will, the moment his mind conjured up his name, his brain would suddenly fill his vision with vivid images of _him_ : eating, laughing, scowling, telling him a stupid corny joke he heard from Leo, playing a prank on him.

 _Will_ , laughing and pointing at a soap commercial on T.V.

  _Will_ , drinking milk before spitting it out when he realized it was expired.

 _Will_ , looking over Nico’s injuries with concern and tentative eyes.

 _Will_ , offering his help to Nico when no one else would.

Kind, happy, smiley-faced _Will_.

Nico’s best friend.

Nico’s _crush_.

Nico’s hand flew to his face, and he started coughing, and coughing, and _coughing_. His knees shook and trembled, and his throat felt like it was closing in on itself.  A few passerby’s peered at him with something akin to mild curiosity and concern, whispering between covered fingers, and before Nico could do anything, his stomach lurched and his legs moved on its own and made that decision for him instead – running towards the opposite direction of his house.

He ran and coughed through the harsh downpour, using both hands to cover his mouth and to stop the blood and vomit from spilling all over the cemented pavement. His knees buckled under the rain and his weight, and he collapsed onto the ground in a massive heap, holding onto the wall for support as he vomited and hacked and coughed and _cried_.

The rain muffled the retching noises his mouth made, and through his narrowed vision, he could see that it was dark, and cramped, and dirty. Nico vaguely wondered if he had wondered to the farther side of town before lurching forward and vomiting again, clutching his stomach and the unbearable pain that he felt driving all other thoughts away.

“F-Fuck . . . i-it _hurts_.” Nico’s eyes blurred from his tears and the rain; the stench of garbage and blood made him want to gag all over again. And Nico couldn’t think over the loud pit-pat of raindrops crashing loudly down on houses and garbage tint lids. The beeping cars and splashing puddles weren’t very helpful, either.

There was also another crucial thing distracting him from thinking coherently: _Everything in his body fucking_ hurt.

His lungs hurt, recoiled and tightened in his chest like a _motherfucker_ , his knees and legs and _everything_ ached like a bitch, and Nico just felt like overall _shit_. It made everything other shitty or fucked-up thing that happened in his life seem insignificantly _small_ in comparison. 

Nico, through his hazy brain, knew that he was only going to get progressively _worse_ if he didn’t contact someone _now_. He may not care much about himself, _hell_ he cared more about Miss O’Leary’s bath routines that he did to his own health, but the pain was doing a fantastically _great_ job in making him reconsider otherwise.

Through much movement and tumbling fingers, he reached for the phone in his pocket, and blinked at it thrice, noting how blurred and jumbled up all the letter and numbers were thanks to the rain and his somewhat poor tunnel vision. Grumbling, he pressed the nearest number on his contact info his finger could find and managed to croak out a dry and desperate, “Help . . .”

“ _Nico_! Why the _fuck_ did you run away like that?!” He groaned loudly.

Godd _amn_ it all, why did Reyna have to answer? More importantly why did he call _Reyna_? If Nico had the strength, he would’ve _slapped_ himself. He lost her barely two seconds ago, and now here he was, luring her back into his life, in a state where he couldn’t possibly fight her off in – less vomiting blood and acid counted as an attack strategy, which Nico was pretty sure was not. 

But he didn’t exactly have a _choice_ in the matter. His consciousness was slipping, and his mind was clouded with fatigue. It was only a matter of time before he fell asleep or blacked out, he was sure.

 _And die here, where no one could find you_ , a tiny part of his mind whispered, but Nico ignored it.

“Rey . . . na . . .” he murmured, eyelids drooping. “I can’t . . . move.” A sharp intake of breath could be heard through the other side of the phone. It sounded crowded where Reyna was – even through the receiver.

“Where, Nico?” He hummed, confused. Why did she want to know _that_? It wasn’t exactly going to help him . . .

“My legs are numb, ‘n ‘m lungs hurt like a bitch . . .” he trailed off, voice cracking, but was rudely interrupted by Reyna’s indignant screech of anger.

“That’s _not_ what I meant you _dumbass_! I meant where _are_ you right now?!” Nico covered his eye, and moaned softly under his breath, coughing weakly. _God_ , he was so tired, he felt like he could easily fall asleep here . . . it wasn’t fucking comfortable, but Nico’s limbs hurt, and he was _exhausted_.

“ _Shit_ , Nico, stay with me here! Where are you?” she barked into the receiver, and Nico whined loudly.

“I don’t know . . . I just got here . . .” But Nico weakly opted to look around and peer up at the signs above his head and down the street, blinking blearily through glassy eyes. “I’m at . . . at the ice-cream parlor, I think . . . near the kindergarten—” Reyna hung up before Nico could finish, and he groaned, almost tossing his floor to the side or hurdle it towards the opposite wall. Why would Reyna answer his call if she was just going to hang up on him in the middle of it? A pure and true asshole she was, for sure, through and through.

Guess Nico’ll just die then. Great.

Nico sighed and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, reluctantly letting himself relax against the hard wall and the cold rain, begrudgingly feeling himself drift on and off between dreaming and staying awake, although his latter resolve was gradually weakening as the rain started soaking his clothes until it stuck to him like some sort of second skin. The thought of sleep and dreams and blissful unconsciousness didn’t seem too bad either, since it’s been so long since he’d done it.

 The rational part of him knew that this wasn’t okay, and beckoned him to beg for shelter at the nearest shop, to use his last remaining energy to call for help, but the _darker_ side, the louder, more tempting, more _exhausted_ side, whispered sweet nothings into his ear, coaxing him with cheap lies and sweetened reassurance, to fade and blacken out, it giggled, to succumb to the tantalizing allure of drifting into oblivion.

Nico sneered at himself, scoffing. Gee, that really, _really_ sounded like a great idea.

 But then he thought of his mom, then Hazel, then his friends, then _Will_ , and it didn’t sound or feel as great as it did before.

Curse his goddamn softened heart to hell Nico wanted to _sleep_.

 _But_ —he barked down that fucking thought and flushed it down the toilet. He was _not_ in a fit state of contemplation. Nico could barely move his fingers.

He closed his eyes, and exhaled. He ignored his throbbing lungs and aching limbs; all he wanted to do was shut his eyes, and forgot the world existed for a few minutes. Forget that _he_ existed for a few minutes. Maybe it’ll help him collect his scrambled bearings and think of something later . . .

Or maybe it’ll knock him unconsciousness and kill him. Yeah. That didn’t sound so bad either.

So that’s exactly what Nico did: his eyes clambered shut against his heavy face, and he drifted off into a restless slumber.

* * *

Will was pretty certain he broke both his legs with how fast and hard his feet padded against the sidewalk. His pinky was still broken, he _knew_ , but for now, the adrenaline was keeping most of the pain at bay, so barely anything in his body hurt. If anything, the resolve to see his best friend strengthened his legs and urged him to go faster, faster, fas _ter to where Nico was because he was hurt and bleeding and oh God why didn’t I pick Nico up myself what happened to him he’s cold, he’s shivering and scared and unconscious and he couldn’t be sleeping, Nico_ never _slept_ —

 He saw the candy store and dove left, eyes wide and frantic and pleading _because Nico was cold and shivering and hurt hurt_ hurt _and why won’t my stupid fucking legs g_ O FASTER—!

“Will, we’re here!” His heart soared, and he _ran_ (he wasn’t even _running_ anymore, he was _sprinting_ ) towards the dimly lit store, noticing two lone figures drenched wet with rain and dirt, and Reyna, stoic and wet and shivering badly under her white blouse, suddenly looked relieved; but also seemed strangely tensed, curling around herself and Nico.

 _Nico_. Will practically flung himself forward, cradling his best friend’s slackened face in his hands, checking his vitals, and temperature, hissing and dragging his hand back when he noticed how _hot_ Nico was ( _and Nico was_ never _hot, he was cold and snarky and cynical and_ alive).

But his chest was _thrumming_. Will’s heart leaped with joy. He was breathing, he was okay, he was _alive_ and _fuck_ Will could break down _crying_ right now. He clutched Nico’s pale hands in his and hung his head, shoulders shaking, because Nico was okay, he was cold, _yes_ , and shivering, but he was alive, and that’s _all that mattered_ – it almost meant the _world_ to Will.

“H-Hey bud,” he stammered, choking back tears. “I’m sorry I . . . I was _mad_ at you. _God_ , I’m so _stupid_. Why did I leave you _alone_.” He caressed Nico’s face, and noticed the slight dribble of blood leaking from his mouth. Above him, Reyna sighed.

“He was unconscious by the time I reached him. But when I tried carrying him, he started coughing up _blood_ , and vomiting and gagging and—” Here, Reyna paused, and Will could almost hear her heart breaking. “And he was . . . he was _crying_. A _lot_. He was practically wailing by the time we reached the bench, and for some fucking _reason_.” She glared at the shops around her, as if she was trying to make them combust on the spot. “This place suddenly became a ghost town. There was nobody around for me to call for help.”

“Why . . . Why was he bleeding?” Will was cradling Nico’s body, pulling him tightly against his chest, eyes closed, silent tears dripping down his face. He pressed his face close to Nico’s hair, breathing in his salty scent (heart cracking at the smell of blood and vomit) reassuring himself  that Nico was _here_ and _alive_ and not _dead_ in some _alley way_ , bleeding to death.

At this question, Reyna turned around to look at him, a knowing look passing over her eyes, before she looked down at Nico, (fragile, shivering) and looked away. “It’s . . . It’s not something for _me_ to tell you.” She turned guilty eyes in Will’s direction. “But . . . I’m very sure that I was the one that triggered it.” Will tensed, eyes snapping up in shock, before they were immediately coated with sudden _resentment._  

“You _what_?”  If Will was in his right mind, he would’ve berated himself for sounding so threatening – for raising his voice at Reyna. If Will was in his right mind, he would’ve attempted to at least listen to her. If _Will_ was in his _right mind_ , he would’ve given her the chance to _explain_.

But Will _wasn’t_ in his right mind. He was exhausted, and worried, and _angry_. All he knew was that Nico was unconscious in his arms, limp and wet, and was apparently, coughing up _blood_ and vomit not even an hour earlier, and _Reyna_ here, was the apparent _cause_ to his best friend’s undoing.

_“Reyna,” Nico whispered. “I’ve been texting Reyna.”_

Will had the sudden strong urge to strangle her.

“What did you _do_?” Will noted with twisted satisfaction how Reyna flinched back at his roar. “What the _fuck_ did you _do_ to him?”

“Now is not the time for that, dumbass!” she roared back, just as furious and humiliated. “Nico’s phone shut down before I could contact his family; and then _my_ phone broke down right after I contacted you. So then there was _no_ way in hell’s chance I could contact the hospital a second time.” She placed a firm hand on her hip, and raked a hand through her hair. “I suppose you brought your phone though, Solace? You didn’t just leave it at home, _right_?”

Will blinked, and he stared down at Nico, suddenly feeling his guilt grow by tenfold. He had left his phone at home in his rush to get to Nico, but now he realized how stupid that was; realized that the three of them had no means to contact the hospital, or his dad to hitch a ride to the nearest clinic, or anyone because he _didn’t have a phone_. “You fucking _forgot_ it didn’t you?” Will didn’t even look up. After Reyna’s little confession, Will found it easier to ignore her overall existence. “Fuck. _Me_. What the hell are we going to do now?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Will said flatly, brushing Nico’s bangs away to look directly down at his best friend’s pale face.

A snort. “Oh, _what_? Will you now? By all means, take as much fucking time as you want; but in the meantime, your best friend would be withering away into nothing in a few minutes because we don’t have a—” in the midst of her rambling, Will had hitched Nico higher until the boy was completely tucked into his chest, and strolling away in a fast and hurried pace, ignoring the way Reyna stomped after him in the rain.

“Whoa, _whoa_ , hold up, where do you think _you’re_ going?” Will turned around just as Reyna reached to probe his shoulder. “To the nearest, cleanest, and driest place I can find, Reyna.”

“In _this_ weather?” She pointed upward, as water and light hail drifted down on them. Will gave her a bored look.

“Yes. I might not be much, but I’ll . . . . try to keep him dry.” _Well, as much as I could in this state_ , he added condescendingly to himself. 

Reyna shook her head, and laughed bitterly. “Okay, let me rephrase that: are you planning to kill him _and_ yourself by catching a cold in this blasted _weather_?” Her eyes gleamed. “You do fucking realize that it’s raining right?”

“ _Yes_. This much, I know Reyna.” It was insulting how she talked to him. Like he was a lesser being compared to her. “But I also know that _Nico_ needs immediate care and attention. And my best friend can’t get any of those things in this blasted _weather_.” Reyna’s form practically fumed and oozed with anger; if the way she bristled was anything to go by.

“But the nearest clinic is a thirty minute drive away!” Reyna threw her arms over her head, near hysterical. “How, pray tell, are you going to get him there in this fucking downpour, on _foot_?”

“Who said I was taking him to the clinic?” Will started walking again, and headed towards the direction from where he had come from. He threw Reyna a _look_. “I’m taking him home with me. My house is a ten minute drive away. Fifteen on foot. Five, if I run.” He looked down at Nico, and closed his eyes.

“ _Four_ , if I took Nico with me.” He sauntered near the candy store, and turned. “Nico’s _hurt_. Time and weather be _damned_. My best friend is _hurt_ , and nothing will stop me from getting him back home.”

* * *

_It was raining hard that time too. The attic of his old house was cold, and damp, and eerily dark. The framed windows rattled harshly against the weak wooden surface of the ceiling, and the white cloth that hid the furniture from view shook and trembled._

_Nico curled around himself, shaking and crying, tugging his knees closer. His bleeding knuckles were covered in loose rags, and he rubbed them with his wet fingers every now and then, wincing harshly when they hurt._

_“It’s so dark. . . ” he muttered absentmindedly, scooting closer to the wall, in a vain attempt to blend into it. Big, fat tears continuously rolled off his face, and drippled down the wooden tiles; his cries muffled by the thundering storm brewing outside his house._

_He buried his head in his arms, and trembled, sobbing hard. The slap his father had inflicted onto him, the harsh one from this afternoon, burned itself into his head, permanently presenting itself vividly into his peripheral vision, replaying it again and again in an infinite loop, in a mocking cycle._

_But the slap – no matter how painfully shocking it was – was_ nothing _compared to his father’s betrayal. His most recent infidelity. The searing pain that accompanied his father’s angered smack didn’t hold a candle to the pain after that firmly lodged itself into his heart. The betrayal was so sudden and unexpected, that it was like an arrow had pierced itself into Nico’s small chest – quick, fast, and agonizingly_ real _. It wasn’t like anything Nico has ever felt before._

_The grief from his mom and Bianca’s dead was still very much fresh in his mind. Time healed many wounds, as the saying went, but it had yet to heal his. The pain, if possible, which he hadn’t thought it was until today, had just doubled in size. It was as if his father had ripped open a throbbing and infected wound, and then rubbed it in after with some dirt._

_The fact that Nico’s father had even_ thought _of replacing his family . . . it didn’t sit very well with him. The mere thought of it made him want to vomit, actually. This was the worst thing Nico’s dad could’ve done in such a situation._

 _And then he had the_ gall _to introduce them to him so openly? Like he expected Nico to understand him and his stupid motives? He told him nothing,_ nothing _, and then he just shows up one day with another woman, and a female child to booth! Was his father so dumb as to believe that everything would be peachy after?_

Of course he would _, Nico thought bitterly. Because his dad expected only the best from him, and_ only _the best. He didn’t even think of Nico’s feelings, or took any of it into consideration, especially his grief – he just expected Nico to go along with everything he said, to be the perfectly stoic son he dreamed of, to hide who he was and bury it so deep under the sand until there was nothing left of what he was to find._

 _He wanted nothing more from a male offspring, from a di Angelo. He expected nothing less from Nico, the child of Hades di Angelo and Maria di Angelo._ If your sister could do it _, he always said,_ then you could too _._

 _But Nico_ can’t _. Because he wasn’t his stupid father, and he most definitely wasn’t_ Bianca _. He wasn’t the perfect son that his dad wanted, nor does he want to be. Nico was_ Nico _. He is a lost boy grieving for the loss of his beloved mother and older sister, a weak coward trying to cope in an unfamiliar situation, and a self-centered_ brat _who can’t do anything right._

_Nico . . . was Nico: a weak, pathetic, selfish boy who couldn’t move on from the past, and refused to make sacrifices for the good of his future._

_Nico was hopeless. That’s what he was. An empty shell of what he used to be, of what his dad wanted him to be._

_There was no use in trying to help someone as hopeless as him. It was no wonder his dad remarried. He was probably trying to drive Nico out. The one failure of a di Angelo who should_ never _have been born._

_Nico buried his head into his knees._

_And cried._


End file.
